The Act of Shattering Peace
by MindTricks
Summary: A story about the four legendary heroes before the Great Kharlan War, before the creation of the two worlds, and before the peace was shattered.
1. A Graceful Lack of Tact

**Disclaimer: **_I do not, by any means own any of the characters, places or anything from Tales of Symphonia. It is all belong to Namco, or whoever owns them. You lucky sods._

**Author's Notes: **Well, here it is: the first chapter of my first fanfic. Heheh, it's about time. So this is about the legendary heroes, as the terrible summary explained. And frankly, it's not my best work, but it'll do. It's an okay start (with a terribly lame ending, I might add, excuse me). Hopefully, (knock on wood) it will get better as it progresses…in fact, I know it will. But anyway, that's beside the point. I was kind of surprised when I wrote this, that I was writing from Yuan's perspective instead of Kratos' (who's point of view I had originally decided to write from), but I don't know if that will keep up. We'll have to see…But I can say for certain that I had to write a couple different types of Yuan before I actually got it out making sense. He was a dumb-ass, then an evil guy who wanted to chuck people out windows…then he's like…well, like Yuan. Though I can imagine Kratos will be much easier to write. Well…maybe I shouldn't jinx myself. Never mind.

Wow, if I don't stop writing this, soon the whole fanfic will be my author's note. That would be terrible. So, here you have it. Enjoy, and don't forget to chuck me a review. I will be forever grateful.

Until we meet again…

**_Shattering Peace:_**

**Prologue:**

Four thousand years ago was the closest to peace that the world of Aselia had ever seen. Almost on the brink of utopia, it wavered. The pieces that moved upon its surface, the people whose childish hands held Aselia's fate, began to toy with the gentle balance unwittingly. And by something so small and trivial, the scales tipped, and the whole world fell into chaos.

And therein begins our story.

------

**Chapter One:**

_A Graceful Lack of Tact_

"For Kharlan's sake, Martel, slow _down!_"

The blonde half-elf giggled, and slowed to a walk from her headlong sprint in the wheat field. Trailing her hand over the tops of the grasses, she hummed cheerfully, her blue eyes glimmering in the light of the slowly setting sun.

The person who had hailed her, a blue-haired half-elf, was trudging behind her wearily, doing his best to catch up, with what little strength he had left. His quarry was making this easier for him by slowing down considerably, stopping every now and then to examine the occasional flower hidden in the wheat.

"Martel," the blue-haired half-elf panted, finally catching up to her. "You…run…too…fast."

"You're just too slow!" she said happily, skipping ahead a couple of paces. She stopped and turned to face him, a smile lighting her face. "Why Yuan, you look like you've been running all day!"

Yuan laughed weakly. "I have," he said. "Running after you."

She laughed as well.

"But why run?" she said, opening her arms. "I'm right here!"

"Always ten steps in front of me," Yuan said, but he couldn't help but smile at her.

Martel let her arms drop by her sides, and she turned away from him.

"Oh, come on, Martel," Yuan said, knowing exactly what kind of card she was trying to pull (she did this every time). "I didn't mean it that way!"

She said nothing, just stood stationary, her fair head bowed.

"Martel," Yuan said, taking advantage of her absence of movement to catch up with her. "You know what I meant."

"You're so cruel, Yuan."

Even though he knew she was joking, her words seemed to send a knife through his heart. No…he could never be cruel to her.

"Martel…" he said, now no more than two yards behind her. "Don't say that."

She said nothing to this, only stayed where she was, enabling Yuan to walk up directly behind her and grab her arms.

"There!" he said triumphantly. "Gotcha!"

"No!" Martel shrieked happily, struggling to free herself from his grip, but he held fast.

"Ha-ha!" Yuan said, hugging her to him. "I've got you now, Martel, and there's nothing you can do about it!"

Actually, there was a great range of unpleasant things she could do to him to free herself, but Yuan was desperately hoping she was in a good mood and liked him enough to refrain from doing them.

"I've been captured!" she squealed, still trying to half-heartedly free herself. "Oh, please, sir, don't take me away! Leave me here so that I may enjoy this beautiful sunset!"

"On one condition!" Yuan said.

"And what is that?"

He leaned down and whispered something in her ear:

"That I may enjoy it with you."

"We are not…interrupting anything, are we?"

Immediately, Yuan let go of Martel and they both wheeled around to see who it was. He felt a great deal of embarrassment wash over him as he saw the burgundy-haired swordsman, standing with his arms crossed across his chest and a slight smirk at his lips, but even more so when he saw the small, ten-year-old half-elf, a spitting image of his older sister. Whom he had just been hugging.

"Kratos! M-Mithos!" he said breathlessly, hoping it was dark enough that they couldn't see the odd contrast between his blue hair and undoubtedly scarlet face. "What…how you here?"

He saw Kratos raise an eyebrow amusedly.

"How we here?" he repeated. "We are here, Yuan, because Master Mithos has just concluded his lesson for today. And you?"

"Me? Well, I was…er, that is…um…"

"Mithos!" Martel said, gracefully ignoring Yuan and the whole situation. She approached and embraced her younger brother. "How are you? Were you good for Mister Kratos today?"

"Martel, I'm not a kid…" Mithos muttered, but he looked pleased at the hug all the same.

"Master Mithos is indeed progressing admirably," Kratos said, now also ignoring the blustering Yuan. "It will not be long before he will be skilled in the way of swordsmanship."

"That's great!" Yuan said, rather louder than necessary. "Well, if you ever want to practice, Mithos, I'll duel you any time!"

The look that the boy gave him was probably the most withering, contemptuous look that any creature could give another. It was hard to believe that he was only ten. Yuan swallowed and tried not to break eye contact with the kid. Reluctantly, a simpering grin came to Mithos' face.

"Sure," he said through his sneer. "Thanks."

For some reason, Yuan found himself incapable of speech. He nodded fervently instead.

"…Okay!" Martel said cheerfully, breaking the awkward silence. She ruffled her brother's hair. "Come on, let's go back. We'll be lucky to make it back before dark!"

As Mithos turned to his sister, his entire expression changed. His face softened and a genuine smile lit his face.

"Okay!" he said, and he became normal again. "I'll race you, Martel!"

She laughed, and soon the blonde half-elves were speeding along ahead of Kratos and Yuan. Yuan let out a long breath.

"Do not be troubled by his attitude, Yuan," Kratos said before Yuan could say anything. "Miss Martel is the only person he has."

"Yeah," said Yuan, shaking his head resignedly. "I know." He laughed weakly. "He really does hate me, doesn't he?"

Kratos laughed too.

"Yes," he said, not bothering to cushion his words at all.

"But what did I…no, never mind, don't answer that, Kratos."

"I'm glad you reconsidered."

Yuan laughed sheepishly again. Yes, there were many things that Mithos could hate him for. Namely for, well…it was obvious, wasn't it?

"Come on," Kratos said. "As Martel so rightly pointed out, we will be lucky to make it back to Heimdall before dark."

"Yeah," Yuan said absently. "Let's go."

They talked little as they made their way across the wheat field, but Yuan already felt a little better. He liked Kratos; he was the kind of person who never really said anything, but when he did, it was worth listening to. Yuan wished most people were like that. In his opinion, people always seemed to waste their words on stupid stuff that didn't really matter. But Kratos seemed to think through everything before he said it, and Yuan appreciated that. That, and the fact that he always made him better when Martel's little brother stared him down.

"Took you long enough," Mithos said when they approached. Yuan glanced at Kratos, who just smiled genially at the half-elf.

"Now, Mithos," Martel said reprovingly. "That's not very nice!"

"It's all right," Yuan said, trying to ignore the penetrating glare that Mithos was shooting him. "Kratos here's just slow. Must be his old age."

Kratos raised an eyebrow at Yuan, but didn't say anything.

"You're not much younger than him, I might remind you," Martel said, winking at him.

"No," Mithos said, not removing his chilling glower from Yuan. "Yuan's just trying to place the blame on somebody else. As usual."

"I…" Yuan felt himself flush again. What was with this kid!

"Mithos!" Martel said sharply. "That's not nice! Apologize this instant!"

"N-no, it's all right, Martel, I—"

"No, I'm sorry," Mithos said, the sneer coming back to him, and speaking so sardonically it wasn't even funny. "I guess I'm just tired that's all. Can we go back now? I want to go home."

He feigned a smile, then turned and walked away into the woods. Martel sighed resignedly.

"I'm sorry, Yuan," she said quietly. "He really hasn't been himself lately."

"Don't worry about it," Yuan said, trying to be cheerful, brushing away her apology with his hand. "He's just a kid."

"But he shouldn't speak like that," Martel said sadly. "I'll speak with him, I promise. Won't you be dining with us tonight, Mister Kratos? We would truly enjoy your company."

Kratos smiled, and briefly bowed.

"It would be an honor," he said.

Martel beamed at him.

"Wonderful!" she said happily, clapping her hands together in the girlish, child-like manner that she never had grown out of. "I will go prepare dinner at once then!"

Winking once again at Yuan, she turned and followed her brother's path into the woods.

Yuan sighed as he watched her go. Always ten steps ahead of him…

"Kratos," he said suddenly to the swordsman standing beside him.

"Yes?"

"…What am I supposed to _do!_"

He turned, dismayed towards his comrade, who he found was trying not to laugh.

"I am afraid I am not the one you should consult on this matter," Kratos said, his mouth still twisted with hidden laughter.

"Don't even try that. You've been alive longer than I have…"

"Four years is hardly a difference, Yuan."

"Better than nothing. What am I supposed to do, Kratos! Is this just impossible!"

Kratos raised his eyebrow.

"Nothing is impossible," he said slowly.

"But this is damn close, isn't it?"

Kratos sighed, and placed a hand on Yuan's shoulder.

"No," he said. "But I suggest you gain some tact when it comes to Master Mithos."

"Tact? What do you mean, 'tact'! I have tact! I have loads of tact!"

"I mean, you seem too cavalier when it comes to showing your…affection towards Miss Martel. Master Mithos is only a child, and therefore sees your situation as you trying to steal his sister from him. Any person would get defensive in such a sensitive matter as this one."

Yuan said nothing to this.

"Practice some caution and patience with this matter," Kratos continued. "Give things time to fall into place and they will. In the meantime, treat Master Mithos with kindness, and try to be sparing with your outward adoration towards Miss Martel in his presence."

Silence followed his words for awhile as Yuan stared at the ground, thinking all of this through. Finally, he spoke.

"Oh, Kharlan help me…I have no tact."

Kratos laughed as Yuan buried his face in his hands.

"Patience, friend," Kratos said, releasing Yuan's shoulder, and turning to walk the well-worn path toward the village. "Soon enough, things will change you your liking."

"But…but how do you _know_ all this, Kratos!" Yuan said, following the swordsman, speeding up to catch up with him. "It…makes perfect sense when you say it, but how—"

Kratos shrugged, and Yuan sighed.

"It amazes me that _you_ don't have any one," Yuan said, shaking his head in disbelief, causing his blue hair to flop about. "I mean…you know far more than people like me…"

"Nonsense, Yuan."

"…And if you only wanted it, women would be flinging themselves at you," he said. "By the wagon-load. I'm sure they already do."

Kratos laughed softly.

"No," he said. "Although that would be rather awkward."

Yuan sighed helplessly.

"Fine," he said. "I understand. You must have your reasons. As you always do."

"Decisions usually are based on reasons, yes."

"Reason_s_, but not reason. Right?"

"Only if a person follows your train of thought."

"What was it you were saying about tact?"

"Touché. My apologies."

"Oh, don't _you_ apologize, Kratos," Yuan said. "We're all in trouble if you start apologizing. No, there'll be enough of that tonight when I talk to Mithos. Oh, Kharlan help me…"

------

When they reached the elven village of Heimdall, it was already dark, and the watchmen were patrolling the boarder, each holding a small lamp to illuminate their path.

"Who goes there?" one called as Kratos and Yuan approached.

"It's me!" Yuan called back. He heard one of the guards sigh.

"You're late again, Yuan!" the guard called.

"Sorry!"

"You know, by all my rights, I should let you spend the night outside the village."

"But you've already done that!" Yuan said, recalling the incident with particular vividness. He stopped in front of the guard and seriously hoped he was in a good mood.

"Rules are rules," the guard said to him, crossing his arms stubbornly. "No entry after nightfall. You know that, and so do I."

"But," Yuan pleaded desperately, not at all keen on spending the night outside again (it was getting colder and he wanted his food). "But…come on…"

"My apologies for him," Kratos said, finally speaking up and moving out of the gloom and into the lamplight.

"Oh, Mister Kratos!" the guard said, lifting his lamp to get a better look at him. "What a pleasant surprise! I'm sorry, I didn't see you back there!"

"Not at all," Kratos said, bowing slightly. "I apologize for not returning Yuan before dark, but there was an important matter that I needed to attend to that took longer than expected, and he was good enough to help me…"

"I understand," the guard said, nodding. He stepped out of the way. "Well, you're lucky today, Yuan. Just don't make this a habit, all right?"

"Of course," Kratos said, nodding, pushing Yuan ahead of him, through the gate of the city. "Thank you for your leniency."

The guard nodded briefly, then continued his patrol.

"…Thanks," Yuan said, breathing a sigh of relief after he was safely away from the gate. "I thought I was going to have to spend tonight outside."

"No need for thanks," Kratos said. "I am hungry, and Miss Martel seems to possess a gift for cooking. And from what I gather, she does not cook outside the gate."

"Ah, who needs friendship when you have food?"

"Indeed."

"There you two are! I was beginning to worry!"

Yuan looked up, his heart skipping a beat as he caught sight of Martel, standing in the doorway of her house.

"Hello!" he said, raising his hand in greeting. "Sorry we're late!"

"Come in, come in!" she said, ushering them inside the house. "Dinner will get cold!"

Yuan blessed the warmth and light that washed over him as he entered Martel's house. It was a nice house, cozy and made of wood, along with most all the furniture inside of it. A stone fireplace was built at one end, in the kitchen, while a small, wooden table and chairs stood on the other side. Several other small rooms branched off from the main room: Martel's and Mithos' bedroom and a small bathroom. The house wasn't big, but to Yuan, at least, it was perfect.

"Hello, Mithos!" Yuan said cheerfully, taking Kratos' advice. The small half-elf looked up from where he was, setting the table, his face molding to a scowl as soon as he saw Yuan.

"…Hello," he said icily, obviously trying the same thing as Yuan was but with less effect.

"Good evening, Master Mithos," Kratos said as he entered and Martel shut the door after him.

"Hello!" Mithos said happily, mood instantly changing as he caught sight of Kratos. "How are you?"

"Fine, thank you, and yourself?"

"Good, thanks for asking!"

With a brief, patronizing glare at Yuan, Mithos continued to set the table.

_Figures,_ Yuan thought, a grin still plastered to his face. _Kratos gets the royal treatment, and I'm treated like dog shit. But that's okay…that's okay, because Kratos is right…Mithos just is…is jealous…well sorry, kid, but this is just something we have to work through… _He took a deep breath and fixed the grin a bit more convincingly on his face. He could do this. He wouldn't let a little ten-year-old get the best of him.

"So," Mithos said. "Why aren't you sleeping outside the city again, Yuan?"

"Mithos," Martel said warningly from the kitchen.

"What, I'm just asking!" Mithos said.

"It's okay, Martel," Yuan said in a voice he thought was pleasant enough. "It's because Kratos was nice enough to speak on my behalf. That, and the guard was in a good mood." _See, Mithos? _he thought. _Look, I'm trying to be nice. Will you try to be nice too?_

"Oh," Mithos said. "So, in other words, you made someone else get you in because you couldn't get in yourself? Figures."

_Kharlan damn it, you stupid little brat, one more word and so help me…_

"Mithos!" Martel said sharply, rounding on her brother. "What did we just talk about! I told you to be nice!"

"I _am _being nice," Mithos protested, finishing setting the table. "I'm engaging in conversation."

"It's not nice conversation," Martel said. "You're insulting our guests! And you're shaming me, Mithos!"

That was it. Immediately, Mithos dismounted from his high horse and looked down at his hands.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled quickly, and he really did sound it. "I'm sorry Yuan, I'm sorry Mister Kratos. …I'm sorry, Sis."

"It's all right," said Martel. "Just don't do it again, okay?" Mithos nodded, still staring ashamedly at his hands. "Please excuse him," she added in an undertone to Yuan and Kratos.

Kratos made a gesture dismissing her apology and Yuan muttered, "'S all right."

"Anyway," Martel said. "Why don't we eat? The food will get cold."

"Yeah," Yuan said, and Kratos nodded solemnly as he liked to do. "It smells great."

"Thank you!" Martel said warmly, herself again. "Mithos, would you come help bring food to the table? No, Yuan, Kratos, you sit down. You are our guests! Right, Mithos?"

Mithos nodded mutely, and Martel ruffled his hair fondly. He looked up at her and she beamed at him, and winked. Yuan found himself smiling too. _Good,_ he thought. _The kid can be humbled_. He really wasn't fighting a losing battle. Maybe they'd reach an understanding one day. They did have one great thing in common: they both loved Martel.

…

Wait…

…

They both…what Martel!

…

Obviously Mithos did but…surely this wasn't…he didn't…

…

Oh, Kharlan help him, he did.

"Anything wrong?"

Yuan looked up at Kratos, his eyes wide and horrified as he realized the significance and truth of what he had just thought.

"You have no idea," he said, covering his eyes with his hands.


	2. Gardening and Apples

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any of the characters or places from Tales of Symphonia. That honor goes to Namco. I love you, Namco.

**Author's Babble: **Hello, there, all my devoted fans, you! Thank you for your reviews! I got two of them! Sorry that it took so long to update…you know how school can dominate your life. And I also apologize for the length of this very short chapter…I don't know why it isn't longer, it just came out that way. Sorry…But I can say that I believe that the writing itself has gone uphill. So feel glad for that. Anyways, leave me a review and I will forever worship you, but besides that, enjoy the second installment…

_**Shattering Peace:**_

**Chapter Two:**

_Gardening and Apples_

For the next couple of days, Yuan found himself avoiding Martel as best he could.

This wasn't as easily done as said, because he still wanted to see Martel a great deal. Nothing had changed there. The only thing was, he didn't think he could face her what with him being, well…

He sighed as he swept a couple strands of blue hair from his eyes and continued with his work. It was hard work, but it wasn't all that terrible. He was hoeing a garden for one of the other elves, a task that he had found himself volunteered for…by Mithos, no less. That kid was out to kill him, he knew it. So here he was, stripped to the waist and absolutely covered in dirt, and some other unnamable muck that he was sure was definitely not dirt.

Tightening his hold on the gardening tool, he made a couple more stabs into the ground, then straightened up again as a breeze swept through. It was a cool summer's day, and the air had a definite taste of rain and grass. Yuan sighed happily. There was no better day to be outside.

Dropping the hoe, he knelt by the nearby river and looked at his reflection. Filthy. Cupping some water in his hands, he splashed some onto his face, and wiped his eyes with the back of his wrist. There. Better. Now he didn't quite look like something that had crawled out of a manure pile or from underneath a rock. Though Mithos would undoubtedly beg to differ.

Yuan got to his feet and resumed his work once more. Despite the cool day, he began to perspire underneath the harsh, unyielding sun. After another good half an hour of steady work, he tossed down the hoe once more and, panting, collapsed onto the ground.

He didn't dare lie down; that would just get him even more unrecognizable. Beads of sweat had cleared little tracks down his dirt-covered face, just adding to the peculiarity of his appearance. His hands and bare feet were filthy, and it seemed an entire layer of the earth had made its way underneath his fingertips.

Yuan glanced at the sky. It wasn't dark yet, but the sun was casting odd shadows over everything below it, a sure sign of an imminent sunset. Dragging himself to his feet, Yuan shouldered the hoe and started to make his way home. A whole day of labor over. He had his aching muscles to show for it. That, and the fact that his skin color was about as brown as the owls they sometimes saw in Heimdall. Ah, well, at least it was over…

"Yuan! There you are, wait for me!"

He whirled around. Martel was racing towards him, a basket in one hand, waving furiously with the other. It was no good; she was approaching too fast for him to turn tail and run.

Yuan saw the fall before it happened. One foot landed awkwardly, then, as if in slow-motion, he saw Martel pitch forward, a look of surprise steadily inching its way onto her face as her basket slipped from her grip. After a second of dumbfounded stillness, Yuan sprang forward, dropping the hoe and—

_Fthwump._

Time resumed its normal pace, and they both fell to the ground. Yuan had managed to catch Martel, somewhat, if catching also included being landed on.

"Oh…I'm so sorry," Martel groaned, getting up and retrieving her basket. "I'm such a klutz some—Yuan! I'm so sorry! I must have landed on you! Are you all right!"

Martel grabbed him by the arm and dragged him to his feet. Rubbing his head, Yuan glanced at Martel. She was covered in the unnamable muck too, he noticed with dismay. He always seemed to be screwing up _something…_

"Don't worry about it Martel," he said. "I'm sorry…you're all dirty now."

He gestured slightly to her now somewhat soiled skirt. She looked down, and laughed.

"Oh, that's nothing!" Martel said cheerfully. "I hope you're okay, though?"

"Y-Yeah," Yuan said, his face turning scarlet, now that he wasn't falling over or making a fool of himself (well…that's always questionable when it comes to Yuan). "Thanks, are you—?"

"Of course!" Martel chimed, taking his arm and dragging him down the street. "_You're_ here! I'm always okay!"

Yuan's already scarlet face became, if possible, a shade darker. Now he wasn't so bothered about the dirt; it proved to be a worthy mask.

----

"Oh. You're here, I see."

It was with a definite note of victory that Mithos greeted Yuan as he arrived with Martel by the patch that Yuan was hoeing. Several days later, and he hadn't made much progress; the ground had become steadily harder and harder it seemed, with the lack of rain and the harsh sunlight. Not to say that the ground became bitterly dry, but more of, turned into that terrible clay that farmers fear to try and till.

"Yes," Yuan said, glad for a distraction from staring at Martel. "I am. Thank you for volunteering me for this work."

He was surprised that his voice came out a little sarcastic. It wasn't as if he would dare to be blatantly rude to Martel's little brother…that was a definite one-way ticket to nowhere. But today, he supposed, as he was again covered in nameless shit and in the presence of Martel, no less, he couldn't help but feel slightly bitter.

Mithos smirked and looked away. "I thought you'd enjoy it."

Martel glanced at her little brother before turning to Yuan. "Here!" she said, holding out a basket. "You were looking tired, so I thought you might like some…"

Yuan took the basket deftly, and, tearing his eyes away from Martel, forced himself to look inside the basket. Inside was an apple, a small loaf of bread and a canteen of water.

"Sorry," Martel said quickly. "It's not much. But I just thought that—"

"No," Yuan said. "No…thank you, very much. This is very kind."

He smiled at her, feeling his face burning. She was actually thinking about him…

Mithos cleared his throat unnecessarily.

"Oh!" Martel said, glancing down at her little brother. "That's right; we must go. Mithos was going to show me a bird that he found by the river."

_The one he gutted and sacrificed to that heathen god he no doubt worships,_ Yuan found himself thinking.

"It was nice to see you!" Martel said, smiling at Yuan. "Good luck!"

And with that, she and her brother turned and were soon out of sight.

Yuan sighed and looked down into the basket. Picking up the apple, he smiled at it weakly. It really was nice of her…

"That's a lot of standing around for someone who says that they're working."

Yuan rocketed into the air, startled by the presence of someone who was no doubt watch the entire exchange. He realized that he had dropped the basket and he had no earthly idea of where the apple was until he saw it come steadily crashing down to earth. Making a flying leap for it, he tripped, fell, and lay to rest face-first in the filth at Kratos' feet.

The swordsman laughed softly, and caught the apple easily.

"Here," he said, holding it out to Yuan, who was trying to free his sight from nameless muck. "I think you dropped this."

Yuan groaned and pulled himself from the dirt.

"Kratos," he said, snatching the apple from him. "Why do you always have to do that?"

Kratos smirked satisfactorily.

"You need to always be on your guard, my friend," he said. "There is far too much wanton leisure in your day."

"That's because you don't have any," Yuan said, sitting up finally. "You're just jealous about the fact that I don't have to be so paranoid. Mercenary."

Kratos laughed and bowed.

"At your service," he said. "But you know very well that that is a title I have long since retired…this village, at least seems to be a place agreeable to me."

Yuan sighed and took a bite of apple.

"Yeah, yeah," he said. "Picky, picky Kratos…"

He swallowed his mouthful of apple and looked up at the swordsman.

"So?" he said. "Is there any reason you came to startle me?"

"Tact, Yuan, tact…"

Yuan sighed.

"Sorry," he said. "I'm just—"

"Infatuated with Miss Martel."

"What! No, I'm not—how'd you—!"

Kratos laughed.

"I am sorry to say, Yuan," he said. "That you are one of the more transparent people I have met."

"But I—!...Oh, what's the use?"

"So I am correct in saying that your affections have deepened for Miss Martel?"

"…Yes," Yuan mumbled. It all just wasn't fair.

"Then might I offer you some advice?" Kratos said, his voice light but almost reprimanding.

"Yeah," Yuan said quickly. Any advice Kratos voluntarily gave, at least, was good advice. "What is it?"

"I would suggest you start making that clear to her," Kratos said.

Yuan gaped, open-mouthed at his friend.

"What! I can't do that!"

"Either that, or face the chance that you may lose her," Kratos said.

"But…but…I can't…I just can't, Kratos…"

"Why not?"

"Because…well, because I…oh, you wouldn't understand! You've never been in love before! How would you know anything!"

His voice had raised in volume in his slight rant, and, startled by his own actions, he ceased his tirade before it properly began.

"You're right," Yuan said, defeated. "You're right…I know. You're always right. But…Kratos, this isn't something so easy—"

"No," Kratos agreed. "It is not. And in the end, the decision comes down to you. It may seem impossible, but, as in most things in life, all it really takes is a little bit of courage. That is what I will leave you with. Good luck."

With a slight bow, Kratos turned and walked away.

Yuan stared at his filthy, dirt-covered hands, thinking things through. Maybe Kratos was right. Maybe he should tell Martel…but if he did, he would be facing no doubt imminent rejection. What could Martel see in him? What could anybody see in him? It wasn't as if he had lots of money, or was especially good-looking, or could do something in particular very, very well…he was just a half-elf who went by 'Yuan', who had blue hair, somewhat pointed ears, and was currently drifting about in the flow of life. He had no proper ambitions or anything. Really, he was a nobody.

Sitting in the dirt, Yuan looked up into the sky. It was a pearly azure, slowly darkening in the coming dusk. It was surely approaching fall…it was getting too cold. He just hoped there'd be rain. At least that would make the ground softer and his work therefore easier.

Dragging himself to his feet, he felt a rise of confidence bud inside him. He could do this…he could do anything, Kratos was right. All it took was a little courage. And besides, it was better to get it out there…then she would know and there would be no doubt.

_But for now_, he thought as he watched two figures approaching on the road, silhouetted against the setting sun. _For now I'll just wait…I'll just enjoy her company for a little longer. Because once I do tell her…that'll be it. It will have to be no more._


	3. Two Happy New Years

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any characters or places from Tales of Symphonia. But I do own this prequel. And the game. But not of the prequel.

**Author's Notes and Stuff:** Well, here we are, installment three of Shattering. This has probably been my fastest update EVER, so don't be expecting another chapter so fast. I'll work on it, I promise! I like this story now, so there you have it…Oh, I want to go ahead and warn you, I'm about the worst romance writer there is on this planet, so any helpful feedback (on anything, really) would be greatly appreciated. Also, the genre is probably going to be changing depending on what is up currently. Right now, it's part romance, because I read it and thought, "Hey! There is a love story! Well, I'll be…" So until that's out of the way, that's how it'll stay…partially. And what about the rest of the time? Eh, well, you'll see. So, without further ado…here you have it. Please read and review, and any feedback is greatly appreciated.

**The Act of Shattering Peace:**

**Chapter Three:**

_Two Happy New Years_

Winter came on strong and fast, overrunning autumn, and Yuan had barely finished tilling the ground when it froze over in a frustrating layer of permafrost.

"Well…thanks very much anyway," the owner of the land had said to him uncertainly, scratching her head. "It'll thaw…I know it will…eventually…"

But the land and his pointless job were not the only things on Yuan's mind. The old year was soon changing into the new, and it wouldn't be long before he would become one year older; his birthday was at the end of the month, right before the New Year. Martel had often told him he was lucky because of this, because that way, every new year of his birth was a new year entirely…however that worked. Yuan didn't really see it that way; his birthday was in mid-winter when everything was either dead, cold, or covered in a frustrating layer of permafrost. Martel, however, was born in the spring, when things were alive and in full bloom. It quite reflected her personality, he thought.

Regardless, winter had finally set in on Heimdall, bringing with it chilling winds and icy temperatures.

Yuan sighed as he looked out his window. It looked absolutely frigid; the trees were coated in a thin layer of ice and the ground looked absolutely stiff with frost. It was not a day he would be going outside if he could at all help it.

Sitting down in his small, somewhat forlorn chair, he stared into the fire he had made several hours ago. It was almost dead, smoldering in its unforgiving frame of stone. Another year going…another year coming…

And tomorrow was his birthday.

Yuan passed a hand over his face. He couldn't believe that time had passed so quickly…tomorrow would be his birthday and the last day of the year. Instead of feeling glad about the prospect of a birthday, he couldn't help but feel incredible dread. Because he had promised himself one thing: that he would talk to Martel about his situation by the first day of the New Year.

This task seemed nigh impossible, and made the prospect of his potential happiness very bleak indeed. Besides, must one look forward to getting rejected by the one they love on their birthday? So much for cheerful prospects.

Someone knocked on the door. Yuan looked up, then dragged himself reluctantly from his chair. He opened the door and started in surprise.

"Martel!" he said, then automatically, "Come in!" He stood aside to let her pass into his house and waited for Mithos to do the same.

After a few seconds of waiting, Yuan realized that Mithos wasn't there.

"How are you?" Yuan said, trying not to be too relieved in case Mithos suddenly popped in at the last second. He closed the door behind Martel. "What were you doing out in the cold?"

"Coming to see you, of course!" Martel said, beaming. Her cheeks were rosy from the frigidity of the wind, despite the heavy coat and scarf she was wearing. Struggling out of these thick garments, she beamed at Yuan. "You're almost a year older!"

"Y-yeah," Yuan said, smiling. "Come in, sit down. Sorry…it isn't much."

It was true; Yuan had a truly tiny house, with about two rooms max. He wasn't used to entertaining many guests…even Martel didn't usually make a habit of visiting him (that was because, of course, Yuan was always visiting her). The only person that seemed to come the most was Kratos, and his visiting schedule wasn't exactly a solid one.

Martel giggled.

"Don't be silly," she said, moving into the room and sitting down on one of the few odd pieces of furniture that Yuan possessed. "I've been here before! Besides, you know I love your house; it's so cozy!"

Yuan laughed a little himself. Martel was so nice to him…

"S-so," he said, abruptly interrupting his thoughts before they could continue into something no doubt agonizing. "Uh, do you want anything warm to drink? It's pretty cold out there…"

"Yes, please!" Martel said, beaming. "Something warm sounds lovely!"

Yuan nodded slightly, then busied himself with getting "something warm" heated up. His mind spun furiously. What was he supposed to say now? She had just shown up out of the blue…it wasn't as if it happened all the time. Yuan frowned slightly, his back to Martel, trying to think of something somewhat intelligent to say, when she spoke.

"How did the gardening turn out?"

"Oh!" Yuan said, staring at his kettle, willing it to start whistling already. "Uh, well, it went fine…it's kind of frozen now, but…"

"I'm sorry," Martel said, and she sounded it. "You put in a lot of hard work on that garden…"

"No, no, don't be sorry!" Yuan said hastily, turning to see that she had gotten up from her seat and was now walking over to him. "It…wasn't such a big job! And you know, you don't have to get up, I'll bring your drink to you…"

Martel smiled at him, causing Yuan's face to turn a different shade of pink. "I know," she said. "You're always so nice like that, Yuan. I just wanted to be closer. It's easier to talk that way."

Yuan's face grew steadily darker and he tried desperately not to do something entirely rash. He succeeded, and managed a smile before turning to stare at the kettle.

"A watched pot never boils," Martel said.

"Good thing it's a kettle."

"Yes, it is a good thing. Maybe staring works with kettles."

Yuan smiled. Martel was such a nice person to talk to, in fact, one of the only people he felt he could talk to about anything. Well, except for one thing, that is. A nagging voice in the back of his head told him that that was hypocritical and didn't make any sense, but there was no use. He just couldn't tell her, not yet.

He glanced over at her, staring intently at the kettle. She was so…cute, for a lack of better words. Her brilliant eyes were fixed determinedly on the kettle, face set in concentration, just like a little kid waiting for something great to happen. Her long, golden hair framed her face, accentuating the perfect angle of her jaw line. She was just so flawless, so utterly perfect, Yuan could hardly stand it.

"Martel," he said suddenly, forcing himself to speak while he still was in his right mind. She looked up from the kettle immediately.

"Yes?"

"I…I want to tell you something."

A smile formed on her lips.

"What is it?"

"I…I just wanted to say that…I…" He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Opening them, he smiled sadly at her. "I'm really glad you came to see me."

---

The yearly celebrations in Heimdall were certainly great ones indeed. For any holiday or event, the elves and half-elves of Heimdall would turn out the finest celebrations and parties in the whole world. Due to their secluded location, however, knowledge of their festivities didn't travel far, and thus Heimdall attracted rarely any tourists. Which was all the better, because parties were better without tourists anyway.

So on the eve of the New Year, everyone in Heimdall was busy laughing and talking and setting up for the great party that night. Spirits were high, and there was hardly a person who could be seen sleeping late or doing nothing. Even the oldest of elves were participating, if personally tasting each of the ales to be served that night counted as participating. There was one, however, who was not working hard with everyone else just yet, and it was very understandable that he shouldn't be. After all, he was a year older.

Yuan woke to the sound of hammering. Blearily, he sat up and rubbed his eyes, noting that, though the day was cloudy, the morning had to be well on its way by then. He looked out his window, where the source of the noise was coming from. A large tent was being erected in the town square. This reminded him that it was New Year's Eve, and it also happened to be his birthday.

His birthday. He thought about that for a moment, then smiled. He was twenty-one.

Yuan laughed, got out of bed, and stretched. Twenty-one had to be the best year to turn. He was taking his first steps into being an adult, and besides that, he could drink.

After getting dressed and taming his hair, he tied the blue locks back in a pony tail and emerged into his kitchen-living-sitting-everything room. Yuan scratched his head and walked to his woodstove to get a fire started.

There was a knock on the door. Yuan got to his feet, abandoning the stove and padded to the door. This would be the most visitors he had had in weeks. Two in two days. He was lucky. Opening the door, he saw a red-haired swordsman standing outside.

"Kratos!" Yuan said, opening the door further and allowing him in. "Come in, come in!"

"Good morning, Yuan," Kratos said, entering Yuan's small house. "And may I congratulate you on surviving another year."

"Your embarrassing me, sit down!" Yuan said. Kratos obliged, and it was then that Yuan noticed the package that Kratos was carrying. Yuan smirked and sarcastically added, "Oh, and you've brought a gift for _me?_ How nice."

"As a matter of fact, it is a gift," Kratos said, lifting it onto Yuan's small table. The parcel was so long, it stuck out on either end of the table. Yuan stared at it.

"I…was just joking," he said, coming to look at it. He looked up at Kratos disbelievingly. "This…is actually for me?"

Kratos nodded slowly, and even smiled.

"Yes," he said. "I believe you're old enough for it."

"Kratos, you're only about three years older than me—"

"Three and three-quarters."

"Fine, three and three-quarters. That's no reason to act so—"

"So you don't want it? Very well…I shall take it back."

Kratos made to pick up the parcel, but Yuan slammed his hand down on it.

"No," he said, not willing to give up his birthday present. "You're not taking it that easy. No cheating, Kratos, you already gave it to me…"

"You have to accept it for it to be a valid trade."

"I accept it, then," Yuan said with a slight smirk. "Now if you don't mind, _Lord Kratos_, I'm going to open it."

Kratos laughed as Yuan ripped into the packaging. "Still a child."

"A child who can drink," Yuan corrected. "Those are even more…"

He trailed off as he saw what was in the package. With a shaking hand, he picked it up and let the rest of the paper fall to the floor.

It was magnificent; two gleaming blades curved at either end of the weapon, held together by a metal pole in the middle, serving as a handle. Yuan had never seen something so beautiful and lethal at the same time. Silvers and golds ran the length of the glorious thing, shimmering at the slightest change in light. He gaped at it, and then at Kratos.

"This…this's for me?"

Kratos nodded once.

"I thought you would appreciate it," he said. "After all, you are old enough to start protecting the things you care about. You aren't a child anymore, however much you like to act like one."

"But," Yuan protested. "I don't know what to do with this! How do I use it?"

"If you like," Kratos said. "I can instruct you in the ways of that blade."

"Yeah, that'd be—!"

"But you would have to be dedicated," Kratos said, crossing his arms across his chest and smirking at him. "And you would have to work hard. Are you prepared?"

Yuan tightened his hold on his new weapon, and nodded.

"Very well then," Kratos said, getting to his feet. "That is settled."

"When do we start?"

"Soon," Kratos said simply. "You will know when." He turned toward the door.

"Kratos!" Yuan said. Kratos paused. "…Thanks."

Kratos said nothing, a rare smile curving his mouth. Then, before Yuan could so much as blink, Kratos had his blade at his throat.

"Haaah!" Yuan shouted, not daring to move. "Kratos! What're you tryin' to—"

"Rule number one," Kratos said, his sword an inch from Yuan's life. "Always be on guard." The swordsman smiled sarcastically and sheathed his sword.

"Y-you're going to be the death of me, Kratos," Yuan said weakly, rubbing his neck with his free hand while sinking down in the nearest chair.

Kratos raised an eyebrow.

"Only if you wish it to be so," he said. "But that is beside the point. I was sent here on a mission by a certain Miss Martel to invite you to her accommodation today. You are already late, so I suggest you hurry."

"What? Martel…ah! No, I can't be late!"

"No, you most certainly shouldn't be late."

"Don't get that tone with me! You were the one who didn't tell me the information on time!"

"And if you had any sense of time in the first place, you would realize it is almost noon and that her invitation was for breakfast."

"What! No! Kratos, why do you enjoy tormenting me?"

"Well, I admit, my life can become very boring at some points."

Setting his weapon down on the table, Yuan dashed to the door, grabbing his coat on the way.

"As much as I admire your determination to see Miss Martel as soon as you physically can," Kratos said mildly. "I do believe that boots in this weather would be appropriate."

Yuan glanced down at his bare feet.

"…Damn it!" he growled. He grabbed his boots and stuffed his feet into them, then tumbled out the door and into the cold afternoon of his birthday.

---

Night fell to a terrific cacophony of various noisemakers and shouting as the festivities for the coming New Year finally began. Despite their initial stereotype, elves and half-elves were not at all the subdued and reserved creatures, especially during any sort of celebration. This was also true when there was ale around.

Yuan, finally being of drinking age, found himself having drinks forced upon him the entire night. He had to politely decline, however, because he wanted to have all his wits about him for what he was at least going to try and do that evening. Kratos, it seemed, was more than happy to accept some of his drinks for him, although not once did Yuan catch Kratos disobeying his own rule. He always appeared to be alert as usual, despite the amount of alcohol he was consuming. Yuan vaguely wondered if that had to do with him being human.

So instead of drinking, Yuan found something much more enjoyable and calming to do: Martel-watching. Martel was helping out with the celebration by bringing around drinks to the various drinkers and food to the various eaters. He found himself realizing several times how beautiful she was. How could anyone _not_ think that?

Come to think about it, there were probably very _few_ people who did not think that Martel was pretty. In fact, the same were probably thinking something else as well, something that made Yuan fume with rage. The sly glances coming from a great portion of the male patrons of the party was enough to convince him of that. Yuan scowled as one of them caught Martel's attention, then proceeded to touch her arm while speaking to her. His hands balled into fists on the table.

A small laugh to his left made Yuan glance over at Kratos. The swordsman was smirking at him.

"Are you reconsidering the advice I gave you?"

_I would suggest you start making that clear to her._

"Yes," Yuan said through clenched teeth as he watched the man flirt with Martel. It was all he could do to not get up and wipe that dirty smile off of that stupid elf's face. He may be younger than that guy, but there was no way he'd lose to him in a fight…especially if it was over Martel.

"Now you see," Kratos said quietly. "Why I told you what I did."

"Shut up, Kratos," Yuan said, still glaring bloody murder at the elf. "You're drunk."

Kratos laughed at this.

"Hardly," he said. "It is not in my nature to get drunk."

"Yeah, yeah, keep talkin'," Yuan said, more to the elf than to Kratos. His knuckles turned white on the tabletop.

"Why are you still here?" Kratos said quietly. Yuan noticed that he was reprimanding him. "Are you going to let him take her?"

Yuan glared at the elf. His hand was still on Martel's arm.

"Like Hell I am," Yuan snarled and got up from his seat abruptly.

"Don't make a mess of things," Kratos called to him as he left his seat. The swordsman chuckled watching the blue-haired half-elf stalk through the crowd. "Transparent, that one," he murmured. Taking another swig of his drink, he glanced around and realized that the party was one golden-haired individual short. His eyes narrowed.

---

Yuan shouldered his way through the small crowd separating Martel and himself, and shortly arrived at her location. Now that the elf was up close, Yuan could see that he wasn't an elf at all; just some strange foreigner. One of the very few tourists.

"—And I was just telling my friend that you look just like a girl I used to know back in Meltokio—"

"Oh?" Martel said. She sounded strained, and she was looked as if she were trying desperately to look interested at what the man was saying as well as trying to ignore his hand on her arm.

"Yeah," the man said tipsily, his hand snaking further up Martel's arm. "And I was also sayin' what a waste it would be if a beauty like you was—"

"Excuse me," Yuan said, coming up behind Martel and smoothly pulling her out of the man's grip. "I'm sorry, sir, I just need to borrow her for a moment. I trust you're enjoying the festivities?"

"Huh?" the man said drunkenly, blinking at Yuan. "Oh, yeah. Yeah, it's great." He seemed rather put-out now that Yuan was there. Obviously he didn't think Yuan was as equally pretty as Martel, which quite a few people would agree with.

"That's wonderful," Yuan said in a simpering tone. "Now, if you'll excuse us…"

And without further ado, Yuan steered Martel away from the table.

He didn't stop or say anything until they had breached the edge of the shadow that surrounded the highly lit area of the town square. There, he let go of Martel reluctantly and sighed.

"Sorry," he said immediately. "I had no right to, but you looked…well…"

He was silenced as Martel wrapped her arms around his torso in a hug.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" she said, squeezing him tight. "I thought I'd never be saved from that man!"

Yuan looked down at her, surprised. After a second, his face relaxed into a small smile, and he held her to him, glad for the chance to be so close to her. By her own will too.

"He kept going on about that girl in Meltokio," Martel said, her voice muffled in Yuan's shirt. "And how I looked exactly like her, and what exactly he used to _think_ and _do_ to that poor woman…"

"Shh," Yuan said, but he found himself smiling all the same. "It's all right. He won't do anything to you." At this thought, his easy smile turned into a deep frown. Oh, that man had better not even_ try_ anything…his mind traveled to the weapon he had at home and how much damage to a person it could potentially inflict.

"I know he won't," Martel said softly. "You're here."

"That's right," Yuan murmured, not really realizing what he was saying. One hand began to unconsciously stroke her golden hair. He quite liked this, he decided. He would have to add holding Martel to his list of his favorite things to do.

He laughed softly at that thought. Martel stirred in his grasp and looked up at him curiously, pulling away. A smile lit her face, however hard it was to see in the dark.

"What is it?" she asked with that girlish innocence that she seemed to have never grown out of.

Yuan didn't say anything, just smiled at her. It was amazing; he hadn't really thought about it, but he would do anything for her. He loved her so terribly, it was as if she were a part of him already, a part he couldn't deny, no matter how hard he tried. "Saving" her from that man was hardly an act of courage, but for ordinary-Yuan, that was a nearly impossible task. To talk with such cheek to a foreigner who was older and stronger than him, was unthinkable. But for Martel, he would do anything. Ordinary-Yuan would disappear, and a different Yuan would emerge: the Yuan that didn't screw up day-to-day activities and could protect the things he cared about. The people he cared about.

"What is it?" Martel asked again, then worriedly, "Did I say anything weird?"

Yuan smiled and placed a hand on her head.

"It's amazing, Martel," he said. "How long we've known each other."

"Yes!" Martel said brightly. "Since we were kids!"

Yuan nodded, then ruffled her hair with his hand.

"Ah! Yuan…" She giggled, shaking her head to try and restore order to her hair. "You used to do that, didn't you?"

Yuan nodded again, still smiling down at her. "All the time." He removed his hand from her head, although with some reluctance; he wished he could keep at least one bridge of physical contact with her.

"You haven't changed, Yuan," Martel said.

Yuan raised his eyebrows. "Surely I have a little?" he said.

Martel laughed and considered this. "Maybe…a little," she said, winking. She stood on her toes and touched the top of his head. "You've grown taller."

"Thank Kharlan," Yuan said, and Martel laughed again.

"Hmm…you've gotten…older."

"Hopefully. It's been about eight years since we were kids."

"Eight years?"

Yuan paused a moment, then nodded.

"Yes. I was thirteen, remember? And you were eleven. And Mithos was three. And I remember that I had wandered too far from home, and for some reason I got lost or something…"

Martel stayed silent, but she nodded at the last part.

"That's right!" she said excitedly, remembering. "You came to my door and asked if I had seen…"

"My dog!" Yuan said triumphantly. "That's right, I had a dog who ran away! There, I knew I wasn't so stupid to get lost in my own town…"

Martel giggled. "You're not stupid," she said quietly.

Yuan laughed. "You'd be surprised."

"Oh!" Martel said suddenly. "Speaking of surprises, I haven't given you your birthday present yet!"

"Huh?" Yuan said, taken aback. "But…you did. You already had me over for lunch…"

Martel shook her head. "No, silly, that wasn't your birthday present. Close your eyes and I'll give it to you."

With a quizzical glance at Martel, Yuan closed his eyes.

"All right," he said. "Eyes closed."

"Sorry…it isn't very much," Martel said quietly.

"Don't b—"

Yuan had started to say something like, "Don't be ridiculous", but stopped short as he felt Martel's lips caress his cheek. At that moment, words immediately became useless and trivial things that didn't seem to have any meaning or purpose.

Yuan opened his eyes and stared at Martel for a moment, unable to do or say anything immediately due to shock. Martel attempted a shy smile.

"Um…happy birthday."

Before he could truly register what his body was doing, Yuan leaned forward, gently taking Martel's head in one hand, and pressed his mouth against hers, praying to Kharlan that he wouldn't screw up this at least. _Please, I know I have to screw up something, but don't…please don't let it be this…_

And it didn't seem as if he was. Although surprised by his actions, Martel seemed to have recovered pretty quickly and she allowed Yuan to kiss her. But it wasn't the polite tolerance of someone not really wanting to be there; she was actually enjoying it, one hand holding onto his arm.

After a moment, they broke apart, and Yuan breathed in deeply several times, trying to get a hold of his bearings before he did anything rash again. Well, he had done it. If that wasn't an obvious sketch of how he felt, he didn't know how else to put it. He just hoped that he wouldn't be forced to spell it out just yet, because, well, he didn't think he could.

"Martel," he said quickly, after he realized she hadn't said anything yet. "I'm…I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…" Panic started to bloom inside his chest. He _had _screwed this up after all, hadn't he?

But to his great relief, Martel laughed. Not at him, but at his apology…or so he hoped.

"Please don't be," Martel said, smiling. "Because I am very, very glad."

Yuan blinked several times, then a strangled laugh made its way from his lungs. He hadn't messed it up at all! And, even better, he hadn't been rejected! By all means, this had to be the best birthday in his entire life.

"I," said Yuan quietly, pulling Martel to him in a hug and stroking her hair again, "Am very, very glad too."

---

Mithos sat in the shadow of the nearest house, watching his sister and Yuan talk. He couldn't hear what they were saying, but he could see them well enough. His sister rushed forward to hug the stupid, blue-haired oaf, but he could hardly blame her. If he were being harassed by someone, he would be grateful to his savior, even if it was that stupid idiot. But why did it _have_ to be him!

They were talking again, or so he could tell. Martel reached up to whisper something in his ear, and then…

Mithos' eyes narrowed into slits as he saw what happened next. He knew it. So that coward actually had the guts to do it. Well, if he thought he was going to get off easy, he was wrong. Nobody did that to his, Mithos', sister without getting punishment. That stupid bastard of a half-elf would soon find the whole village against him. Mithos smirked. "Stupid half-elf"…it kind of had a ring to it.

But whatever his punishment it was, it would be severe. There would be no apologies accepted or even pleas for forgiveness. Maybe if he _begged_ for mercy, he might take _some_ pity on him. Regardless, the solution was clear:

That bastard had to die.


	4. Chill

**Disclaimer: **I do not own any of the places or characters in Tales of Symphonia. I just write about them and meet them for tea every other Sunday.

**Author's Junk:** Hello, hello. Sorry about this chapter. I believe it's a tad short and it's a tad crummier than usual, but forgive, please. And read and review. Please. Anyway, this one…not many notes about this one…Just the frustrationtowards the auto edits that fanfiction makes. I know that they want to eliminate stupid stuff, but really, a question mark followed by an exclamation point is hardly stupid; it's an accepted practice in writing as far as I know. Hmm. Rant over. But, anyway...please, please read and review! And tell all your friends/extended family to read and review! It is greatly appreciated, really it is. And if you have any advice/feedback/complaints/questions/comments it is all welcomed! So, the last thing to say is, well…enjoy!

**The Act of Shattering Peace:**

Chapter Four:

_Chill_

The first days of the New Year brought with them a snowstorm so huge, it could be easily compared to the everyday blizzards in far-off Flanoir. Heimdall, which received a rather balanced amount of the seasons during the year, had never truly experienced such a snowstorm before, and so it took several days after the fact before people decided to emerge from their houses.

Yuan shivered and looked out his frost-covered window. It looked as cold out there as he felt, and he returned to the refuge of the hearth before his woodstove. Sighing, he stretched his hands out, closer to the flames. He was lucky to have this woodstove, he decided. He had never thought that he would actually have to use it other than for cooking, but in an emergency like this, it sure came in handy. He rubbed his hands together and stuck his feet out in front of him. The hearth was almost uncomfortably hot, but Yuan didn't really care. It was better to be too warm than too cold.

There was a knock on the door. Yuan looked up, shocked that anyone would emerge from their home in weather such as this. His mind strayed to Martel and, as much as he would love to see her, he hoped she was at home warm before her own fire. It was still snowing and the wind didn't help warm the sub-zero temperatures, so even a couple minutes outside was a sure ticket to Frostbite City.

Getting up from his warm path, Yuan hurried on bare feet towards the door, cursing the frigid tiles beneath his toes. He opened the door a crack and a gust of wind and snow came in, chilling his wrists, feel and ankles, the few body parts he had not covered up with several layers of clothing. Blinking through the white, he saw a completely snow-covered figure in front of him. From the height, it was obvious who the stranger was.

"Kratos!" Yuan said, stepping backward and allowing his friend to come through the threshold. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Hello to you as well," Kratos said, brushing snow from his arms. "I hope I am not intruding?"

"Of course you're not! Get in here!" Yuan quickly closed the door, but it was no use; the temperature in his once toasty house had dropped several degrees. "Now answer me, what the hell were you doing out there?"

"Does an old friend need an excuse to visit?" Kratos said, raising a frosted eyebrow. He shook his head slightly, dislodging great lumps of snow from his hair.

"No, but…" Yuan gaped as he saw the amount of snow that Kratos had collected. "Holy Kharlan! How long were you outside!"

"Several days, I believe," Kratos said mildly.

"Several…? Kratos, you're insane!"

"Shall I take that as a compliment or a blatant insult?"

"An insult, you fool!" Yuan said, pushing him over towards the woodstove. "Now go warm up before I have to get the healer because your limbs are falling off."

Kratos, for once, did what he was told, and Yuan busied himself with covering the snow by the door with several towels. There was no way he would open that door again. And besides, that way, his floor wouldn't get so wet.

"So tell me," Yuan demanded again, returning to his woodstove. "Why the hell were you out in the blizzard for so long?"

Kratos, who was removing his gloves, didn't answer. Raising his hands stiffly, he considered them for a moment before resting them on the blazing hearth. A steady trickle of steam began to rise from his hands as they thawed, and Yuan noticed they seemed to be tinged an interesting shade of blue.

"Kharlan," Yuan swore, kneeling beside his friend and grabbing his wrist. Upon further inspection, Yuan realized that Kratos' hand wasn't just a little blue; it was also gray and slightly purple. Yuan looked up at Kratos.

"What happened?" he said quietly.

Kratos pulled his wrist out of Yuan's grip, and settled his hand on the hearth again, beside the other one.

"I believe I already mentioned it," Kratos said lightly. "I was out in the blizzard for awhile."

"Awhile? Several days isn't just _awhile_, Kratos. Especially in this weather. What happened? What possessed you to wander around in a _blizzard_ of all things? Why weren't you at home?"

Kratos looked at him, and a weird smile crept onto his face. Yuan immediately shut up. Of course, how stupid. He shouldn't have said anything. He knew as well as anyone that Kratos didn't_ have_ a home; he kind of wandered from place to place, finding refuge wherever he could. It was strange, really; plenty of people had offered him a home, including Yuan, but he never accepted. Yuan could only assume that those were the side-effects of becoming a mercenary at such a young age; he wasn't used to a stable home, so why should he seek one out?

"Sorry," Yuan muttered immediately. "Didn't mean to…but you're still stupid! You could've come here sooner!"

"To answer your question," Kratos said quietly. "My 'home' was burned down."

"You had a…_what! _It was…_burned down!_ By what!"

"By _whom_ should be your question," Kratos said simply, checking on his slowly thawing hands. They looked better now that they had come in contact with some heat.

"What…what do you mean, Kratos?"

Kratos glanced at him unconcernedly. "Arsonists."

"W-what?" Yuan said nervously. "Arsonists? Why would there be arsonists in Heimdall?"

"Why indeed?" Kratos said. "But they burned my house down, to answer your question."

"Why'd you let them?"

Kratos gave a short bark of laughter.

"Well, that's interesting," he said bitterly. "I stood aside and let them do it, did I?"

"Hey, I didn't mean it like that…"

Kratos sighed and shook his head.

"I know," he said. "I apologize. My only excuse is that these last three days have been rather trying."

"You've been out for three days?" Yuan said, sitting down to get more comfortable. "Why didn't you come sooner?"

"That was my plan," Kratos said. "However, certain details impeded that. My 'house' was situated a good distance from here. I thought it would be appropriate so as to not endanger the residents of Heimdall."

Yuan nodded slightly. Kratos has mentioned that to him before; he had been a mercenary, so as well as having to do a lot of unpleasant things, he had also gained a lot of enemies.

"As soon as the storm hit, I ventured out to gather supplies, traveling even farther away from the village," Kratos continued. "When I returned, however, it was to find my house in flames. The fire, I admit, gave a great source of warmth while it lasted, but eventually the second wave of snow hit, and it was extinguished."

"Well, then how do you know it was arsonists?" Yuan said. "If you just came back…maybe something else had happened…"

But even as he said it, he knew that there were too many factors pointing against that hopeful thought.

"No, Yuan," Kratos said, shaking his head. "There were foreign footprints in the snow when I arrived. It had stopped snowing temporarily while I was out, so the footprints were distinct. And the possibility for a fire to abruptly after a blizzard are close to none."

Yuan nodded.

"Did…did you lose anything?" Yuan said hesitantly. He didn't know how much of a 'home' Kratos had established. It seemed kind of unfair; as soon as Kratos seemed to get used to the idea of a stable base, someone came and burned it down.

"Nothing much," Kratos said, nodding at the sword at his side. "_That_ is the only thing I really need. Although, I will need to make Master Mithos a new practice sword…"

Yuan smiled faintly, glad to know that the loss wasn't _completely_ devastating.

"Well, I'm sorry," he said, because there wasn't much else he could do. "You can stay here if you want. Until the blizzard's over, or whenever you want."

Kratos nodded. "That would be greatly appreciated," he said quietly. However strong Kratos might be most of the time, it was times like these that made Yuan realize that Kratos was young too; he had his own worries and insecurities just like him. A slight smile curved his mouth. Stupid bastard. Always getting himself into trouble.

"So I guess your hands got numb from all that cold, huh?" Yuan said, nodding to Kratos' hands. They looked more normal and not like some creepy lizard's skin.

Kratos smiled wryly. "I suppose you could say that," he said.

"What? What's the look for?"

"After my 'house' was extinguished," Kratos said, looking at his hands with a strange sort of fondness. "I had to figure out a way to keep warm so as to not get frostbite and lose limbs."

"And it looks like your plan really sucked, because your hands look about ready to fall off."

"True, it did fail," Kratos said, his face falling a little. "But the principle was correct."

"What principle?"

Kratos looked at Yuan.

"The principle for manipulating mana."

"Manipulating…who?"

"Mana, Yuan," Kratos said somewhat impatiently. "Mana, the life-force within us all."

"Oh…I see…uh…"

"In essence, mana is the root for what you might call magic."

"Oh! I get it! But…wait, you're saying that magic caused your hands to wither and die?"

"They're hardly dying," Kratos said, flexing his hand. His fingers could all bend by now.

"Good. Because I wouldn't have been the one trudging through the snow to the healer's house."

"But yes, magic was the source of my hands' degradation."

"I didn't know you could do magic!"

"Neither did I," Kratos said, the smile coming back. "But I was able to perform a simple spell, which kept me warm long enough to get here."

"Except…?"

"Except, the spell rebounded," Kratos said, his face growing hard. "And it came to be the opposite of what was supposed to happen."

"Then I'm assuming," Yuan said. "That this spell had to do with fire?"

"Amazing. How do you figure these things out?"

"It's because I'm so wonderful."

"That was my fear."

Yuan laughed.

"Well, when it's not so damn cold outside," he said. "You're going to have to sacrifice your hands again so you can show me how to make fire with magic or whatever you were doing. 'Cause it sounds pretty useful…and, well, cool."

"There will be no sacrifice needed," Kratos said, a strange glint in his eyes. "Because next time, I _will_ succeed."

---

The bar in Heimdall was probably one of the more popular locations in the village for obvious reasons. The drink was good, the atmosphere was pleasant, and it was always a good place to hear the latest news. That's why, even through the current bleak weather, the regulars trudged resolutely towards the bar.

At about midday, the regulars for the afternoon had all arrived. The bartender, an elf, greeted them all and gave them their usual drinks. The conversation started as usual, and soon, the bar was full of happy chatter and the sounds of glasses clinking against wooden tables.

Unexpectedly, the door opened, letting in a fair quantity of wind and snow. The regulars looked around at each other, silently taking in account who was there, and who was late…but nobody was missing from the usual crowd. Their attention, therefore, went to the door to see who the newcomer was, but if they were expecting a drinking buddy, they were sorely mistaken. A young, blonde half-elf was brushing snow off of his arms.

"Master Mithos!" the bartender said. "What a pleasant surprise! Now you know, young man, I can't serve you a thing! You've got a ways to go until you can have a drink!"

Mithos smiled at the bartender and crawled up a stool, seating himself on it. "I know," he said sweetly. "But would you mind if I just sat here? I kinda got bored."

"Ah," said the bartender, winking at him. "Growin' up so fast, I see. Already bored with child-play? When I was your age, young master, I was playin' outside all the time. But, I guess with kids nowadays…" He trailed off.

"Mithos!"

Mithos looked down the bar to see a small crowd of people approaching him. He smirked.

"Mithos! How're you doing?"

It was a bunch of the young men in the village, all elves and all holding various drinks. They all looked very cheerful at the sight of the ten year-old boy, and why shouldn't they be? He had the prettiest sister in the entire village, they'd be fools not to be pleased with his presence, even if he was a kid. There was no better way, in their opinion, to get information about a girl than through her loved ones.

"I'm fine, thanks," Mithos said pleasantly. "And how about you guys?"

There was a great chorus of "wonderful!" and "great!" and "good! And you?".

"And, uh," one of the young men asked. "How's—"

"If you're inquiring after my sister," Mithos said with a smile. "She's doing well."

There was a general murmur of appreciation at this. Mithos could have sworn he even heard, "Great kid." His smile broadened.

"But," he said, looking away rather tragically, his smile disappearing. "I'm afraid to report that Martel is…well, something's happened."

"What?"

"What happened?"

"What's wrong?"

"You just said she was fine!"

"Yes, she_ is_ fine," Mithos said, then grinned, turning to the boys. "Just maybe a little…_too_ fine."

The young men fell silent at this, staring disbelievingly at Mithos.

"You don't mean…"

"I do," Mithos said, airily, picking off a piece of invisible dirt from underneath one of his fingernails. "My dear sister is now very happy that she's found someone—"

"Wait," said one elf frantically. "What do you mean, 'found someone'?"

"She's settled happily, I believe," Mithos said. He allowed his smile to drop a couple of notches. "But…he doesn't deserve her."

"W-Who is it!" they demanded. Mithos sighed dramatically, covering his face with one hand.

"It's…Yuan."

"What? _Yuan!_ Of all people…"

"This is terrible…Yuan!"

"Why _Yuan?_ What does she see in _Yuan!_"

"I know," Mithos said miserably. "That _stupid half-elf_ just doesn't know when to stop…I guess it's just bad breeding."

"Obviously!"

"He's always been a bad egg!"

"_Yuan_ of all people…"

"I just…wish," Mithos said. "That he would be…taken out of the picture, or something." His eyes widened in astonishment at what he said and he covered his mouth with his hand. "Oh, no," he said. "I shouldn't have said that…how _awful_ of me…"

"Don't be hard on yourself!" said one of the young men, clapping Mithos on the shoulder. "We all know what you mean."

"Yeah," another said. "Don't worry, we'll take care of him for you."

"R-Really?" Mithos said hopefully. "You would?"

"Of course! We have to protect Martel after all!"

"No creep like Yuan's going to get her!"

"We'll change that stupid half-elf's ways!"

And, with a great chorus of "Yeah!", the group of elves paid for their drinks and left.

A grin slowly spread itself across Mithos' face. It was all just too easy. Gullible fools. Step one was already in play.


	5. A Prop For the Weak

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any of the characters or places from Tales of Symphonia. If I did, do you think I'd be writing fan-fiction?

**Author's Stuff: **I apologize for the lateness of this update, and I thank you all profusely for your reviews; you don't know how much it means to a fan-fiction author (unless you are one; then you appreciate the glee of reading a review) so thank you. And keep reviewing! More of this drabble at the bottom, probably. But for now, enjoy!

**Act of Shattering Peace:**

Chapter Five:

_Prop Up the Weak_

Now that the snowstorm was finally beginning to melt, Yuan was more anxious than ever to take up Kratos on his offer to teach him how to fight with his birthday present. However, it took another three weeks before Kratos would even consider it; he had flatly refused to budge from Yuan's house while it was still snowy outside.

"However glad I am to see you so eager to practice," Kratos had said lightly, sitting by the wood stove. "There is no possible way in Hell that you could drag me outside without the risk of losing a few of your limbs."

"Come on, Kratos!" Yuan had whined. "It's not even that snowy outside!"

"A foot of snow does pass the requirements for being 'snowy'."

"You hypocrite! What was with that 'Always be prepared' crap then! What are rules for if they're not going to be followed?"

"Rule number two," Kratos had said, contentedly closing his eyes before the heat of the stove. "Never anger your instructor. There."

"…Why do I even put up with you?"

It didn't take long, however, for the snow to finally melt. Its absence was filled with frequent violent gusts of wind and dark, ominous clouds. Regardless, it was time for the Heimdall residents to uphold their ancient tradition of the New Year; taking down the celebration banners.

It was a well-known custom in Heimdall to put up celebration banners for the celebration of the New Year. These banners were kept up until the last snow melted away, and then were taken down; the last of the snow symbolized the last remnants of the old year, and thus the old banners were taken down and burned. The New Year was then welcomed unhindered by any past grudges.

As a part of this tradition, all able male residents (and any female residents, if they so chose) were required to take down all the banners strung around the city. It was a job that took most of the day, but usually it was accompanied by light spirits and sometimes music and food, so the work went rather quickly. After all, the coming of the New Year was supposed to be a cheerful occasion.

On the designated day, Yuan woke up to a light gray sky. Upon further inspection of the day, Yuan found it to be rather mild, the warmest he had seen it in weeks.

"Hah, Kratos," he said, withdrawing his head from outside and closing the front door. "You have no excuse now."

"Indeed I do not," Kratos said, who was sitting at Yuan's small table, sharpening his sword. "However you have previous engagements this day."

"What? N-no, I don't…" Yuan said, desperately hoping that he hadn't forgotten any plans he had made with Martel.

Kratos smiled wryly at him.

"Oh?" he said. "Are you not a citizen of Heimdall?"

"Yeah, I am," Yuan said defiantly. "What are you getting at?"

Kratos sighed and rolled his eyes.

"It never ceases to amaze me," he said. "That even though I do not live in this village, I know more about its happenings than you do."

"Just spit it out already, Kratos."

Kratos cleared his throat. "Today is the day that the banners are removed," Kratos said in monotone as if he were reciting a previously memorized script. "And burned as a symbol of the coming New Year."

Yuan blinked.

"Huh?...Oh! Oh, yeah, I remember!...Dammit, it takes a whole day doesn't it? What time is it?"

"Nine," Kratos said mildly, glancing at Yuan's timepiece on the table. "I suggest you hurry."

"Yeah, yeah," Yuan said resignedly, putting on his coat. "You know, I'm not your responsibility or anything…"

"Yes. I thank Kharlan for that every day."

"Very funny."

"What did you mean by it, friend?"

Yuan laughed. "It's almost like you're acting the parent sometimes," he said.

"Are not friends allowed to look after each other?"

"Yeah," Yuan agreed, sitting down and pulling on his boots. "I guess friends do look after each other." He grinned at his boots. "Ah, well, anyway, one day you're going to be a father, Kratos, I can feel it."

"…I beg your pardon?"

"Yep," Yuan said loudly, standing up and stretching. "Kratos is gonna have a son one day…boy I envy _that_ kid!"

He laughed and walked around his house, picking up his gloves and fastening his coat, still enjoying one of the rare moments that he could confuse and annoy Kratos at the same time. Childish, yes. But it was really so much fun.

"Yeah, sure. I can just see it: Kratos as a dad and bossing his son around so much, that the kid can't stand it."

"…Yuan…?"

"Rule number five hundred and eighty-four, son: never by any means inhale more air through your left nostril than through your right nostril."

"What are you—!"

"Just promise me you'll name him 'Yuan'. That way it'll be that much easier to boss him around."

"Yuan, you—"

But Yuan just laughed once more, and without bothering to look back at the thoroughly confused and agitated Kratos, he left, shutting the door on his best friend.

----

By the time Yuan arrived at the square, there was already a great crowd gathered there. Most were males, but a few girls dotted the crowd. Regardless, everyone was dressed warmly in hopes of staving off the cruel wind that occasionally tore through the mild weather.

"Listen up, now!" the guard in front of the crowd was saying. "You know the drill. Take the banners down from around the village and bring them here. Separate the actual fabric from the prop and put them in the designated piles. It's pretty simple. All right, are you ready?" There was a murmur of assent through the crowd and a lone, enthusiastic "YEAH!" from the back. A wave of laughter rippled through the crowd. "All right then!" the guard said. "Let's get this done!"

Yuan sighed, stretched and turned to find a banner to take down. It didn't take any time at all, judging that there were at least fifty banners in the small town. Whistling tunelessly, he approached the tall wooden prop that served as the flagpole for the banner. Untying the ropes that kept it upright, Yuan was just about to ease it onto his shoulder when someone spoke.

"Do you need any help?"

"Martel!" Yuan exclaimed happily, turning to see the blonde standing before him. "How are you?"

She smiled.

"Very well!" she said. "And how about yourself?"

Yuan smiled too.

"Great!" _Now that you're here._ "Are you helping with the banners too?"

Martel nodded. "Well, I was just coming to see if you needed any help," she said. "The props look really heavy…"

Yuan flashed her a grin. "Nah, I've got it. But you could probably help me take the banners off…I'm not so good at untying small knots…"

"Of course!" Martel said, clapping her hands together. "Anything I can do to be of help today!"

_You're always a help…_

Yuan forced a casual smile, realizing that his face was flushing. He hoped it just looked like the result of the occasional bitter wind.

"Thanks, Martel," he said. He bent again to pick up the prop when something occurred to him. "Oh, yeah. I almost forgot." He turned to Martel, bent down slightly, and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. She blushed, and looked down at her hands, a small, shy smile tugging at her mouth. This took Yuan aback, as he had never seen that expression on her face before. Sure, she had looked really cute and innocent on occasion, but nothing like this. It was as if there was a different side of Martel being exposed. He found it rather beautiful.

"Well, now!" Yuan said loudly, hiding his further reddening face by turning and heaving the prop onto his shoulder. "Better get started!"

He turned in what was very much a daze, and headed back to the square. Martel liked him! Martel liked _him!_ He still couldn't believe it, after how many weeks? He had to be the luckiest guy alive…Martel liked him!

"—uan…Yuan…Yuan, hey watch out!"

Yuan immediately stopped on reflex, just narrowly avoiding colliding with another young man carrying a prop.

"Woah, sorry, Javis!" Yuan said to the elf, snapping out of his daydream. "Sorry, didn't see you there."

Javis sighed and shook his head.

"Open your eyes for once, will ya?" he said, shrugging and smiling.

"Yeah," Yuan agreed, arriving at the growing pile of props and kneeling down to deposit his on it. "Sorry about that."

"Don't forget the banners," Javis said, his prop still shouldered.

"Oh, yeah!" Yuan said, looking wildly around for Martel. Of the entire process, Yuan detested untying the banners the most. He hated sitting there like a fool, taking hours to untie four little knots. That job was more suited to a girl's smaller fingers.

"I'm here!" Martel said, coming up behind him. Yuan sighed with relief.

"Thank Kharlan," he whispered. Martel giggled.

"Here," she said, putting her hand on his shoulder. "I'll untie it."

"Thanks, Martel," Yuan said gratefully, looking up at her. She smiled at him, and he returned her gesture.

Just as he was turning around to stand up, his head collided with something hard and solid.

"Holy mother of—!" Yuan started, and bit his lip hard before he could continue. Stars flashed in front of his eyes and his head spun as he recovered from hitting the edge of a prop.

"Yuan! Are you all right!"

"Oh, sorry, Yuan," Javis said. "I was just setting it down, and I guess you turned around…didn't see you there."

Yuan glared up at him behind stray strands of blue to see Javis smiling. All a joke. Yuan forced a laugh, his face softening.

"Yeah, yeah, my bad," he said, rubbing his forehead.

"Are you okay!" Martel asked again, looking at him anxiously. "You hit it really hard!"

"Yeah, I'm fine!" Yuan said, smiling. "Just a bit of a bump. Not a big deal."

"But it looked like it really hurt!"

Yuan laughed, and stood up.

"Nah," he insisted, ignoring the fresh headache he had gained. "Here, I'll be right back. I'm going to go get another one."

He turned and jogged away, rubbing his head with one hand. Damn. That was unfortunate. Ah, at least it was only a bump on the head…

"Woah!"

His foot caught fast on a piece of wood, and he tripped, landing flat on his face. Groaning, he got to his hands and knees and looked around.

"Aw, geez, Yuan, are you all right?" the elven boy asked, kneeling by the prop. "I was just about to pick this up…sorry."

"Yeah, Kain," Yuan said, dragging himself to his feet. "It was my fault. You know me…"

"Heh. Yeah."

Yuan shook his head, his hair flopping about. That was pretty stupid. How could he not have seen a prop? Maybe today just wasn't his day.

Figuring that there would probably be more props around where he lived, he set off towards the outskirts of town. He half hoped that Kratos would still be there so he could tease him a bit more; he was by no means finished.

"I'm like his son," Yuan muttered to himself with a grin. "That's just too weir—oof!"

His face smacked into wood and he fell backwards, landing hard on his back. He blinked, trying to clear his vision as he lay in the dirt. His head was throbbing with an unknown ferocity, and he was having difficulty thinking through the blinding white light that was clouding his mind.

"Sorry," he heard an apology mumbled somewhere above his head. "Didn't see you from around the corner…"

Yuan tried to make for a casual response, but found that his voice was caught in his throat. He heard the person leave, and sat up, massaging his face. Okay, this wasn't funny anymore.

"Jerk," Yuan muttered, getting to his feet. "Sorry to you t—"

He was cut off as yet another hard object collided with his face, followed by a second, which knocked the wind out of his chest. Yuan fell to his knees, gasping for breath, not even hearing the excuses passing him. Something felt strange; his face was unnaturally warm. Reaching up with a hand, he touched his nose. It was bleeding.

_Great_, he thought bitterly, wiping the blood off on his sleeve. _Just perfect. A bloody nose. What is it, "Everyone-hit-Yuan-with-big-planks-of-wood" Day?_

He snorted at this idea, but he paused, his eyes narrowing. Obviously it wasn't a national holiday, but it did seem a bit strange…why was he getting hurt all of a sudden? It just didn't seem right for everyone to suddenly gang up on him…but then again, nobody was really apologizing, or even looking sorry at all. It was just too suspicious.

But why was he being targeted in the first place?

Yuan found he didn't care, as he got up hesitantly before checking that nobody was around. It didn't matter why people where beating him up; the fact still remained that he was getting hurt, and that sucked. He'd have to be more careful from now on.

And he would also need to get another prop. Otherwise Martel might just freeze waiting for him.

Martel!

Yuan turned and dashed off, hoping against hope that there was a prop nearby. He could just see one when—

"Agh!"

----

"Yuan…what in Kharlan's name happened to you!"

Yuan did his best to smile at Martel cheerfully behind his black eye and bloody nose.

"Hey, Martel! Sorry for taking so long."

"Yuan, answer me!" Martel demanded. "What happened to you! You're covered in bruises! And…blood!"

"Hm?" he said unconcernedly. "Oh, I…I tripped."

"Yuan—"

"No, no, it's true!" he insisted, carefully kneeling down beside Martel and setting down the prop on the pile. "I did. Really. Anyway, I've been thinking…it's getting colder out here. Maybe it'd be better if you went back home?"

"Yuan, tell me what the matter is."

"It's not that I don't love…your company and your help, it's just, you know…I don't want you to get cold."

"You're avoiding the subject—"

"Please," he muttered, trying to make her understand without words. He stared intently at her for a while, willing her to understand his situation. He didn't want her to be there, to see him the way he was. And if she was around him, there was definitely a chance that she might get hurt as well. "Please, Martel. It's cold."

She blinked several times, then sighed softly.

"Only if you insist you're okay…"

"I am, I am! I promise, Martel, there's nothing the matter."

"All right," she said, getting to her feet, still staring at Yuan concernedly. "But please let me know if I can do anything…"

"I will," Yuan said, smiling up at her. _Thank Kharlan. She got it. _He reached out and took her hand, pressing it briefly to his lips. "Thank you."

Martel laughed softly, and at last turned and walked away.

Yuan breathed out a sigh of relief. At least she was out of potential harm's way. Indeed, she was no sooner out of sight, when Yuan felt a prop thrown against him. He stiffened, wincing against the pain from his aching back. Shaking his head, however, he didn't even bother to see who threw it, instead turning to undo the knots on his banner. A laugh of apology met his ears, which turned into a jeering cat-call. His hands shook on the knots.

"Hey, there's only one left!" someone shouted, and Yuan blinked. How long had it taken him to get two props? A cheer rose up from the crowd.

"Only one left!"

"All right!"

"Now we can go home!"

"Wait," said the initial voice. "The banner's caught on the building next to it…this is bad."

"Oh, yeah, don't wanna rip it, do we…"

"Will someone have to climb up there?"

"Hey, I've got an idea! Yuan will do it!"

A wave of noise traveled through the crowd, that sounded scarily of laughter. Yuan's hands clenched into fists as he turned.

"Yeah?" he asked cheerfully. He surveyed the smirking faces of the crowd of men. "Sure," he said finally. "I'll do it."

"That's a man, Yuan!" Javis said, coming up and slapping him forcefully on the back. Yuan's smile turned into a grimace.

"It's right here," Kain said, pointing to a prop down an alley. Yuan nodded, looking up at the banner and seeing that it was indeed tangled on a prong sticking up from the neighboring building's roof. "Can you get it?"

"Sure," Yuan said. "Not a problem."

"All right! Get up there, then!"

Yuan grasped the prop and shook it slightly. It seemed steady enough. Shouting a few words of encouragement to himself inwardly, he hoisted himself off the ground, using the side of the alley and the prop as supports. He didn't want to do this, every fiber of his being was screaming at him not to do this, but what choice did he have? The crowd below was set on humiliating him, and he'd be damned if they succeeded. Maybe if he did this, they'd stop hating him…

But it was just typical that they picked him. It was always him. Always Yuan. He glared at the banner up ahead of him. It was so close—

_Yuan can't do this, Yuan can't do that. Yuan, you're so clumsy, Yuan, you'll never get a girlfriend. Yuan you're hopeless. Yuan, you're useless. Yuan, just give up already. Yuan, come do my dirty work. Oh, Yuan doesn't mind. Yuan will do anything. 'Cause Yuan's a misfit. _

_Yuan, you just don't belong. _

There was a shout below, and Yuan felt one of his supports disappear. He turned in horror to see the prop falling away from him as the supporting ropes were cut. He scrambled for a moment in midair, trying to grab something, anything to stop him from falling, but to no avail. The ground rushed up to meet him, and he lost consciousness.

----

It was cold when he woke up. He blinked up at a darkening, cloudy sky. Turning his head, he realized that he was alone. The prop was gone, and so was everyone else. Where had they gone?

_Home_, he thought bitterly. They were all home while he was there festering in an alleyway. They really did hate him, didn't they?

He tried to sit up, but even the thought of moving hurt like hell. _Damn it, _he thought,_ If I can't get out of here, I'm going to freeze to death. _With a tremendous effort, he lifted his arm, shifting his shoulders. Finally, with an added ounce of pain, he was lying face-first on the hard road. Perfect. On the mental count of three, he heaved himself up onto all fours, where he stayed, gasping with pain. All his muscles were screaming with indignation, and he felt the world spin a bit underneath his palms. After the spinning ceased, he grabbed hold of the nearby wall, and dragged himself to his feet.

It was easier than he imagined it would be. Now that he had gotten his muscles moving, they seemed happier, and less inclined to hurt so damn much. Shaking his head, Yuan braved a couple steps forward, which he achieved while holding onto the wall.

_Good,_ he thought. I'll be able to get home.

Exiting the alleyway one step at a time, Yuan paused to observe the town square. It was quiet, almost nighttime, and there was nobody about. All the props had been cleared away already; it was as if that day never happened. As if it was just a normal day in which Yuan hadn't been beaten up by most of the village populous.

Yuan growled at this thought. Talk about unfair.

Leaning against the side of the building, he closed his eyes as a chilling breeze swept through. He really needed to get home; it was only going to get colder, and he wasn't dressed for anything but mild, maybe slightly chilly temperatures. But then again, it was all too tempting to just fall asleep here, and forget that anything ever happened.

"_Yuan!_"

Yuan opened his eyes lazily, focusing on the swiftly approaching figure.

"About time," he said hoarsely. "I was thinking you'd forgotten about me."

The world swayed again, and the wall shifted from his grip. He stumbled forward, and ran into someone.

"Sorry," he apologized as Kratos grabbed his arms to hold him up. "Rough day, you know…"

"What happened to you?" Kratos asked, surveying Yuan's beaten-up appearance.

"Ah, nothing, nothing," Yuan said lightly, still trying to regain his balance.

"Do not test my patience nor challenge my intelligence," Kratos said in a somewhat dangerous voice. "I am not so stupid to believe you received these injuries by accidental means. You need to return to your home. Miss Martel was kind enough to aide me in my search for you when you did not arrive several hours after the ceremonies were terminated. She was not far behind me, so she should be—"

"Martel?" Yuan asked, his eyes widening in horror. She couldn't see him all pathetic like this! "Kratos, you can't be seri—"

"Mister Kratos? Did you…oh, thank Kharlan, he's all right!"

Yuan looked up as Martel came running towards him.

"Yuan!" she cried, throwing her arms around him. "You're all right! Nobody could tell us where you were! We've been looking for…" she stopped as she caught sight of Yuan's face. He looked away. "Yuan," she said quietly. "What…in Kharlan's name…happened to you?"

He did his best to smile unconcernedly, but he was finding it very hard. He didn't know what he would have done if Kratos hadn't interrupted.

"Now is not the time for such questions," he said briskly. "Come. We must help him to his house."

"Yes," Martel said, nodding, eyes still fixed on Yuan's face. "We should."

"Come," Kratos said again, hoisting one of Yuan's arms over his shoulders. Martel followed suit with Yuan's other arm. "Once in a more comfortable location, Yuan, you will recount the entire affair to us, or have it painfully removed from you. I give you this time to choose your option."

Yuan tried to laugh, but somehow, he wasn't quite sure if Kratos was joking or not.

----

Mithos sat by the entrance of the bar, watching the progress of the two, as they helped an unsteady Yuan home. He chuckled, hearing the roars of laughter from the crowd in the bar as they recounted their successful attempts at impeding the oaf. His chuckle turned into an outright laugh, and he sat against the building, laughing at his success.

It was a long time until his laughing ceased.

**A/N:** Hello, again! Now some comments on the stuff you just read. Yes, I do realize that Heimdall does have a festival for every hour of the day (can you blame them for loving to celebrate?) but that's just how I picture the village. Hope you're enjoying it all…please review, leave your impressions on it, constructive criticism, questions, comments, anything is very much appreciated! Until next time, then…


	6. An Act of Good Will

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the characters or places in Tales of Symphonia. I don't own you either.

**Author's Drivel:** I am so, so, so, so, so very sorry for taking forever on this update! My inspiration bubble kind of popped, and I was left high and dry for a long time. Besides all that, school has decided that kicking asses is a fun and educational thing to do. So please forgive. Thank you for reviewing, my reviewers! Every review is a joy! That sounded really cliché! But that's all right!

Anyway, this is the next installment! Enjoy!

**The Act of Shattering Peace:**

Chapter Six:

_An Act of Good Will_

"Explain it to me again."

"I just did."

"Again. I trust you understand the meaning of the word?"

"Yeah, yeah," Yuan said hastily at the first sign of anger in Kratos' voice. The two of them were currently in Yuan's home, accompanied by Martel. Yuan had been forced into his bed by a combination of Kratos' orders, Martel's pleads, and finally Kratos' threats of his slow and painful death if he did not rest _that instant_. Then Kratos had proceeded to force Yuan to tell him exactly what had happened that day, leaving out no details and had spent the entire span of Yuan's story pacing up and down the room, one hand running through his red hair agitatedly and one on the hilt of his sword. Martel had just sat, worried, by Yuan's side. Yuan couldn't help but feel guilty; he felt as though he should say something to her, apologize for the state he was in, or for making her look so sad. Neither were things he intended, yet, he couldn't find the words for anything other than his story for Kratos.

"Nothing was out of the ordinary," Yuan said with a sigh. "I've already told you. I just ran into Javis' prop—"

"He hit you with the prop, Yuan," Kratos said distractedly.

"No, he didn't," Yuan said. "I really did run into it. I almost ran into him, then—"

"He hit you with the prop," Kratos finished for him again, and, ending in a dark mutter, "But the question is, why? He didn't even run into him…"

"Hey!" Yuan protested. "You gonna listen to me, or what?"

"My apologies. Continue," Kratos said quickly.

"_Thanks. _Anyway. I run into his prop. I wasn't looking. Anyway, that's not the point. Went off to get another prop and tripped over Kain's—"

"—Prop, because he placed it there," Kratos said.

"No. Because I wasn't looking."

"Yuan, you may sometimes be blind and deaf to the world, but you would think that the equivalence of a small tree lying in front of you would catch your attention."

"Yeah, you'd think. Sorry for being dumber than you imagined," Yuan said sulkily. Kratos paused in his pacing, looking over at Yuan, instead of the wall.

"That was not what I was intending to imply," he said gravely.

"Yeah?" Yuan said. "Then _pray do tell_."

Kratos sighed, ignoring Yuan's mimicking. "I am simply saying that there seems to be a more suspicious motive to these actions than mere happenstance. For Kharlan's sake, look at yourself, Yuan. You are more battered than many who come from a battlefield, let alone a friendly gathering!"

Yuan had nothing to say to this, so he looked away instead, glaring at his sheets.

"I say this only out of concern for you, friend," Kratos said seriously. "I do not think that this is an innocent matter."

"That's only 'cause you're so paranoid," Yuan mumbled.

To his surprise, Kratos laughed.

"That may be true. However—" His face returned to its solemn state. "—I might suggest you adopt some practices of caution now and again."

"I do."

"I disagree," Kratos said bluntly, shaking his head. "There is no caution, nor do you act as an experienced adult—"

"That's stupid," Yuan said, glaring at Kratos. "I'm not naïve!"

Kratos smirked and crossed his arms over his chest, regarding Yuan with an almost amused look. "Oh? How so?"

"You know…! I'm not…stupid!"

"Stupid, no, but too willing to believe in the good of others—"

"And why is that a bad thing!" Yuan found himself shouting. "Just because you can't trust anybody, doesn't mean the rest of us can't place value in other people!"

"If you keep living your life believing the world is a happy place, I cannot guarantee your safety nor prosperity—"

"Damn those! I don't care! And who gave you the permission to talk to me like I'm your damn son!"

"I am not speaking to you as a father, only as a friend—"

"Like hell you are!" Yuan shouted, his hands balling into fists. "I'm not your property or anything else that you can just boss around!"

"Believe me," Kratos said stonily, no trace of amusement on his face now. "I take no pride nor pleasure in 'bossingyou around' as you call it. I wouldn't be inclined to if you would occasionally open your eyes so you don't _run into _anything. But that, my friend, is only what the mature do."

"Yeah, talk it up!" Yuan said, glaring at Kratos. "So you're _three and three-quarters_ of a year older than me. Now that makes you mature and me a child?"

"If you would listen," Kratos said coolly. "Maybe you would hear properly what others are saying to you. Maturity had nothing to do with age; granted, I've met twelve-year-olds with more maturity than you."

"Shut up, Kratos," Yuan growled through clenched teeth his fists trembling slightly. "Just shut the hell up. I've had enough of this shit."

Kratos matched Yuan's glare for a moment, then bowed his head and made for the door.

"Thank you for your hospitality," he said curtly. "The weather is fair; I will be taking my leave."

"Fine," Yuan said, glaring at one of the bare walls of his bedroom. _Don't let the door hit you on the ass on your way out, you conceited little bastard._

Kratos left the room. Yuan heard another door open and close, and he was gone.

He sighed, his face sinking into his hands. Great. He had screwed something up again, hadn't he?

"I'm so sorry, Martel," he said, his apology muffled slightly in his palms. He heard her laugh softly, her hand rubbing his back soothingly.

"It's all right," she said. "You two had to sort things out." She paused for a moment. "I don't think I've ever seen Mister Kratos in that kind of a mood before."

"Are you kidding?" Yuan said into his hands. "That bastard's always like that…he just doesn't show it too often."

"He must be really worried about you," Martel said.

"Hell no! He just likes to boss me around! I keep telling him, I'm not his dumb son, but he—"

Martel giggled. "No, silly," she said. "I think he's just really worried about you. And I am too, for that matter." Her hand paused on his back. "Yuan," she said softly. "I'm really worried too."

Yuan pried his face from his hands, and looked at her. Her face was serious, but her eyes were…sad. Sad sapphires staring back at him.

"I'm fine, Martel," Yuan said, smiling. "Really. I promise."

"But I don't want to see you like this again!" she persisted. "I'm beginning to wonder if Mister Kratos was right. If those people were purposely hitting you."

"That's just…" Yuan started, but he couldn't find words to back it. How could he defend something that he didn't even believe? Kratos might be able to pull off the Devil's Advocate to a tee in some circumstances, but Yuan was just hopeless at it. Again, he really had no tact when it came to those kinds of things. It just wasn't fair. Yuan sighed.

"I know," he said gloomily. "He's probably right. In fact, he is right. All the time. I'm just too dumb to see it. Kharlan, I_ am_ naïve, aren't I?"

Martel laughed.

"No," she said. "Not compared to most. I mean, we all are in some ways. There are some things that we've never experienced, so we are naïve when it comes to that. I'm just saying that Mister Kratos has been a mercenary, so he probably sees the bad side of strangers before anything else. But I'm like you, Yuan; I want to believe that there's good in everybody…even though that can be very hard to believe sometimes."

She trailed off, but managed a smile.

"Anyway," she said. "I just want you to be safe. That's all."

Yuan returned her smile. "You're too nice to me, Martel," he said.

"That's just silly," said she, shaking her head and rising beside Yuan's bed. "I can't be nice _enough_ to you." She took his hand and squeezed it.

"Where are you going?" Yuan asked.

"Home. I have to check on Mithos, it's been awhile…" she said, looking somewhat anxious. "But I'll be back really soon, I promise."

"Oh, no, no," Yuan said, waving away her last comment with his hand and a smile. "Take your time. You guys are siblings, you need to see each other…"

Martel smiled and nodded. "Yes," she said. She let go of his hand, and turned for the door. "I'll be back, but please, try and rest some?"

"I will," Yuan reassured her with a nod. "Tell Mithos I say 'hi', will you?"

"Of course!" Martel said cheerfully, looking positively delighted at the thought. With a final smile, she disappeared around the door. It shut with a soft click.

Yuan was alone.

He sighed, dropping his head into his hands again. Life just wasn't being fair at all. Why did everyone hate him? Granted, he hadn't been the most popular guy in the village, but nobody had ganged up on him before! He knew Kratos was right; it wasn't by accident that he came to find himself more bruised than a mistreated pear, but it wasn't as if he was going to go running to the stupid bastard and apologize for everything he said. It was his fault too after all. It takes two to argue. And after all that lecturing from him about having no tact…

_Oh, go stuff yourself, Kratos,_ Yuan thought bitterly lying down and glaring at the wall of his bedroom. He shut his eyes, and tried to think of pleasant things, but nothing really came. All he could think about was the enemy he had made himself into…even to his own best friend.

----

The morning a week later found Yuan sitting at his small table and staring absently at the wall. He had recovered somewhat, and didn't look half as bad as he had after the banner festival.

There was a small knock on the door, and Yuan looked up as Martel entered. His face brightened.

"Hello!" he said cheerfully. "How are you?"

"Very well!" Martel said, beaming at him. She was carrying a basket filled with something that Yuan couldn't see. "How are you feeling?"

"Much better, thanks," Yuan said, nodding.

"Good," Martel said, kissing him on the head as she passed. Walking into his kitchen she set down the basket.

"What's in there?" Yuan asked with a grin.

"Food!" Martel said cheerfully, coming back to the table and sitting down. "I was baking today and had extras so I thought you might like them."

"Wha…Martel, that's amazing!" Yuan said. "Thank you!"

She smiled. "No problem!"

It was hard for Yuan to contain his glee; Martel was one of the best chefs he knew, as well as famous throughout the village for her incredible cooking skills. Everyone knew about her cooking, even people who didn't live in the village.

_I am hungry, and Miss Martel seems to possess a gift for cooking._

Yuan's face immediately darkened.

"Hey," he asked Martel, glaring at the opposite wall. "Seen Kratos around lately?"

"Um…no, actually," Martel said, looking uncomfortable. She looked down at her hands. "He came to the village the day after you guys…I mean…"

"Why?" Yuan asked, his eyes narrowing.

"To check on you," Martel said, looking up at Yuan.

"Well _I_ didn't see him."

"He asked me how you were doing," Martel said. "He seemed concerned."

"Hmph," Yuan said, crossing his arms, and glaring at the table.

"I think he's worried," Martel said quietly.

"Nah," Yuan said simply. He fell silent, not knowing what else to say.

"Anyway," Martel said after a moment. "I have to go…I promised Mithos I would take him out for a picnic today…it's so nice outside. Do you want to come with us?"

"Hn?" Yuan said, looking up at Martel. She had risen from her seat. "Oh! Sorry, Martel, I'd love to, but I actually have to do something today…"

"What?" Martel said, puzzled. "It's…not anything dangerous, is it?"

"No, no," Yuan said, smiling. "Just a…an errand of sorts. I'll tell you about it later, all right?"

Martel nodded, and Yuan stood, and walked her the short length to his door.

"I'll see you later, then?" he asked her hopefully.

"Yes!" Martel said, and nodded.

Yuan leaned down and kissed her briefly. He smiled as a blush rose to her face.

"H-Have a nice time!" he said, his own cheeks tinged pink as well.

"You too," Martel said, smiling broadly.

Yuan opened the door for her, and she departed.

Closing the door with a sigh, Yuan turned to get ready for his so-called "errand." Grumbling, he retrieved his weapon from his bedroom, slinging it across his back with a leather strap, and then approached the basket of food that Martel had left him. Its scent was heavenly, and he selected a few muffins, soft rolls, and meat-filled turnovers from the basket, and wrapped them all in a cloth. Taking a couple of apples from his own food stash, he packed his supplies in his traveling bag, and slung it over his shoulder. Bearing both his bag and weapon, he started towards the door. _This had better be worth it_, he found himself thinking as he exited his house and stepped out into the beautiful weather. It wasn't every day that he was invited on a picnic by Martel.

----

It didn't take very long to find him. Even though he didn't have a specific destination, Yuan could easily guess where Kratos would be: far away from the village, and most likely by his failed home.

Indeed, he was there, sitting by the edge of the river that was no more than a few yards away from a mass of burnt wood. One hand rested on the hilt of his sword, and he was staring across the river absently, deep in thought.

Yuan didn't even try to mask his footsteps; Kratos probably already knew that he was there anyway. He merely walked over to the river and stood there, staring off in the same direction as Kratos. Kratos sighed.

"Can I help you?" he asked.

"No," Yuan responded, not taking his eyes off the distant spot across the river.

They fell silent.

"Have you come for a reason?"

"No."

Silence again. Yuan heard Kratos grumble.

"I see," Kratos said, and Yuan heard him stand. "My apologies for interfering with your walk."

Kratos turned, with the intention of walking away. He hadn't taken two steps, however, when Yuan moved. Yuan wasn't quite sure what he had intended to do, but his leg swung out and collided with the back of Kratos' knee in a swift kick. Kratos stumbled and swung around, his eyes wide with confusion and a little bit of anger.

"What was—"

Instead of trying to explain himself, Yuan reached into his bag with one hand and held out an apple to Kratos. Kratos eyed the fruit suspiciously.

"You going to make me stand here all day?" Yuan asked coldly. Kratos' eyes narrowed.

"What is this?"

"An apple."

"What…"

"An act of good will, you moron."

Kratos stared at him for a few seconds, then hesitantly reached out with a hand. Just as his fingers brushed the fruit, however, Yuan threw it at him. It bounced off Kratos' chest and fell to the ground.

"Oh," Yuan said, smiling. "Sorry."

Kratos looked down at the apple, then stonily up at Yuan.

"Are you sure you didn't come for a reason?" Kratos said. "Perhaps to amuse yourself?" He bent down to retrieve the apple.

Yuan's leg swung out again, but this time, Kratos was ready for him. He smiled pleasantly up at the blue-haired half-elf, the apple in one hand, Yuan's heel in the other.

"Cheers," he said, and stood up, lifting Yuan's foot up to shoulder-height.

Yuan fell hard on the ground with a curse. He struggled to stand up, glaring bloody murder at Kratos.

"You—"

Kratos, however, seemed very unconcerned with the whole matter. Rubbing off the apple with a sleeve, he bit into its flesh.

"Very nice," he said.

"Oh, I'm so glad," Yuan said sarcastically, a grin coming to his face. "You can have the other one, too then. Me, I'm going to have what Martel _baked_ today."

It was as effective as he would have hoped. Kratos' chewing slowed and he turned his attention from the apple to Yuan.

"Yeah," Yuan said, nodding. "She did a lot of _cooking _and gave me a _lot_ of the extras. So enjoy that apple. If you don't mind, I'll be eating lunch." Yuan sat where he stood, taking the sack from his shoulder and putting it to the side. He removed the weapon from his back and laid it across his lap. He then proceeded to open the sack slowly, and make a big deal of selecting which baked good he wanted to devour first. He heard Kratos' footsteps approaching.

"Give me some."

It was not a request, it was an order, spoken in the same tone of voice Kratos used with anybody who was giving him trouble. Yuan was quite familiar with this tone of voice, so unlike others, he was not immediately swayed by its intimidation.

"Yeah. Right."

Yuan heard a blade drawn, and the next moment he felt something cool and metallic against his throat. "I do not suffer fools well."

"What a pity. Must be a bitch to live with yourself every day, then."

Yuan couldn't help but grin as he said this. Kratos tapped the blade against Yuan's throat.

"I'm waiting," Kratos said.

"I'll make you a deal," Yuan said. "I'll give you this whole bag of baked goods," he said, nodding over to his bag. He looked up at Kratos with a grin. "But you have to fight me for it."

Kratos stared down at him, then gave a bark of laughter.

"Well," he said, "This _is_ a bold challenge. At least I won't be hungry for long." He removed his sword from Yuan's neck and sheathed it, however, accepting his deal. Yuan scrambled to his feet, clutching his weapon in one hand.

"Are you sure you feel like being defeated today?" Kratos asked, taking several paces away from Yuan and turning to face him with a smirk.

"Pretty cocky for a man who hasn't won yet," Yuan said, returning the sarcastic grin.

"If you simply hand over the goods, there will be no need to embarrass yourself. Perhaps I'll let you have one…as an act of good will, we'll say."

Yuan laughed. "What in Kharlan is making you think that I'm going to lose?" he said. Kratos didn't know half of what would be fueling him in this fight. Partly his pride. Partly the shame of losing. Partly the shame of losing to someone like Kratos. Partly the urge to beat Kratos into the ground for being a stuck-up, no-good, pretentious asshole of a pretty-boy. And partly for Martel, the greatest force on his side. There would be no way he would lose a fight over something that Martel gave him. That just wasn't an option.

Kratos sighed exasperatedly. "Well," he said. "If there is no stopping you, I don't know what else I can do." He shrugged, and drew his sword. Sudden fear struck Yuan as he heard the blade slide out of its sheath. He wondered if that was one of Kratos' gifts, to strike fear in the enemy's heart by doing something as simple as drawing his sword.

"On your mark," Kratos said, with an almost patient air. Yuan took a deep breath, and nodded.

"Yeah. Okay. Now."

Kratos was on him so fast he didn't know what had hit him. Panicked, he had only enough time to hold his weapon in front of him before Kratos' blade connected with it. Yuan swung it up first on impulse and then down, trying to anticipate Kratos' moves before he made them. After a couple of heart-stopping moments, Yuan felt the handle fly from his fingers and the flat of a blade tap his cheek tauntingly.

"You're dead. I won," Kratos said sweetly.

Yuan fell to his knees as Kratos turned, sheathed his sword again and approached Yuan's bag. How…had he done that? One moment Kratos was several yards away, and the next, he was knocking the weapon out of Yuan's hands. And now he was eating Yuan's food. The food that Martel gave him.

"For your knowledge," Kratos said seriously, kneeling by the bag and trying to decide what to take first. "You handled that blade well for someone who—argh!"

For Yuan had scrambled to his feet and launched himself at Kratos, tackling him to the ground.

"It's not over yet!" he shouted, his fists swinging.

"That will teach me to give you compliments!" Kratos growled, deflecting Yuan's attacks with frustrating ease. "Get up off me. I intend to enjoy my spoils."

"They aren't yours yet!"

For a moment, the world seemed to stop and turn upside-down. Then Yuan landed hard on his back, the wind being knocked out of him. Kratos sat up, rubbing a kink out of his neck.

"Children," he sighed, shaking his head in mock disbelief.

Yuan dragged himself to his feet, watching again as Kratos made his way over to the bag.

"Hey!" he shouted, and was at his side in a flash, pulling on the other side of the bag. "No spoils until you beat me, cheater!"

"I beat you in a duel, fair and square," Kratos argued, not letting go of the bag.

"I didn't say you had to beat me in a duel, dumb-ass!" Yuan said, twisting the bag in Kratos' hands. He saw his grip falter slightly. "I…said…you…had…to…_fight me for it!_"

With a final twist, he wrenched the bag out of Kratos' grasp, and kicked out with a leg. It connected with flesh, and he saw Kratos stagger back, stumbling across the bank of the river. His foot connected with a rock and—

_Splash. _

Yuan stood motionless and wide-eyed for a moment, still holding the bag of goodies with a limp hand. Kratos came sputtering to the surface, completely soaked in the cold, spring water, cursing just loud enough for Yuan to hear. He couldn't take it anymore. He doubled over, laughing so hard he thought his sides would split, tears forming in his eyes.

"Kharlan curse you!" Kratos protested ineffectually making Yuan laugh harder. "This water is extremely cold!"

"K-Kratos…y-y-you…" Yuan gave up into helpless laughter.

Grumbling, Kratos waded out of the river, shaking his head to rid his maroon hair of excess water. He drew his blade and shook it.

"If this rusts you'll be the worse off," he muttered.

"C'mon, then," Yuan said, wiping away tears with the back of his hand. "You'll freeze again and it'll be my fault." With difficulty, Yuan shouldered his bag, picked up his weapon and led the way through the woods, back to the village.

----

"Yuan! You made it back on…what happened to you, Mister Kratos?"

Kratos smiled at the gate keeper, water dripping off his soaked clothes and hair.

"Nothing a beating won't explain," he said pleasantly.

Yuan grinned. "You want more, Kratos? I thought you'd had had enough for today."

Kratos glanced at Yuan, raising an eyebrow as they entered the village. He sighed, and shook his head.

"You will never change."

"Hey, Yu…hey, you two!"

Yuan looked up to see two blonde half-elves standing in the road, the taller one waving.

"Martel! Mithos!" Yuan called, waving back. He hurried to meet up with them, Kratos plodding slowly behind.

"How was your picnic?" Yuan asked, grinning and looking between the two. Mithos looked positively disgusted with Yuan's presence, but Martel smiled at him.

"It was great!" she said. Glancing beyond Yuan at Kratos and back again, she asked, "And I trust your 'errand' was a success?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah," Yuan said sheepishly. "Er, thanks a lot for the food. It, er…helped a lot. You're the best, Martel."

Martel beamed.

"I'm just glad I could help. In fact, if you'd like, you two could come over for dinner tonight if you want!" she said, speaking louder so the sodden Kratos could hear. He smiled at her, and bowed.

"It is greatly appreciated," he said. "But first I must impose on the fool who got me in such a state, so I can refrain from soaking your home."

"Huh? Oh, yeah, you are all wet, aren't you," Yuan said. "All right. Martel, we'll see you in a few. Bye, guys!"

He and Kratos turned and set off towards Yuan's house.

"You still do owe me goods," Kratos muttered.

"Yeah, yeah, keep talkin', wet-boy."

"You had better learn to wield that weapon better if you insist on keeping such an arrogant tone."

Yuan grinned at Kratos.

"Yeah," he said. "I suppose I'll have to."

And just maybe, if he played his cards right and employed the help of a few baked treats he could convince Kratos to stay and teach him.

----

**A/N:** And that's the end of that! Sorry, it may sound kinda cheesy, but that's how it came to be. Note that this chapter was originally thought of as "The Baked Goods War" so be glad I'm not THAT cheesy. Hope you liked it.

MindTricks


	7. Practicing the Facade

**Disclaimer:** I own Tales of Symphonia! Except, **not really!**

**Author's Apology:** Geaaaah! I am so, so, _so _eternally sorry for taking so _flipping_ long to update! Let me tell you, inspiration and motivation both failed me miserably. You'd think during the summer I would have lots of time, thus lots of ideas and thus lots of fat and happy new chapters, but it wasn't so and I apologize profusely! I hope you continue to read and hopefully the next update will come sooner. (Well…it better!) I hope you review, and I am **SO SORRY!** I humbly bow to all of you and present this new chapter! (Note: there may be some naughty words, so take no offense, please!)

**The Act of Shattering Peace**

Chapter Seven:

_Practicing the Façade_

"One, two, three…you've got it wrong again."

Yuan cursed as he swung his unwieldy weapon wildly, finally spinning it from his hands and letting it fall to the ground with a thud. Kratos lowered his weapon and stepped back a few paces.

"Damn it all to Kharlan and back, the stupid piece of shit!"

"Yuan," Kratos said patiently. "Your weapon bears no fault in this situation."

"I know," Yuan snapped, then sighed as he picked up the large, gold and silver blade. He and Kratos were dueling—rather Kratos was teaching Yuan how to fight—not too far away from Heimdall. So far, things hadn't gone well. There had been a lot of confusion, a lot of frustration, a lot of swearing, and a lot of patient instruction from Kratos as Yuan leapt around, nursing a hand and cursing profusely.

"Right," Yuan sighed, spinning his weapon idly. "Again. I'll get it right this time, I promise."

"Do not make promises you cannot keep," Kratos said with a wry smile.

"Hey," Yuan said, grinning. "I can do it. Have faith in—"

Without warning, Kratos sprang forward, and Yuan only had time to shout and lift his weapon before it was knocked from his hands again.

"Damn it all to Kharlan! What the hell was that for!"

"You seem to be ignoring both rules one and four," Kratos commented mildly.

"Oh?" growled Yuan, shaking his hand as he knelt down to pick up his fallen weapon. "And pray tell, what's number four?"

"Do not make promises you cannot keep."

Yuan snorted, then straightened up. "Yeah, well, add this one on: don't be an ass when you're instructing students."

"On the contrary," Kratos said with a mock bow, his sword still unsheathed in one hand. "That is one of the essential rules of teaching."

"All right, all right," Yuan said, swinging his blade around in a circle. "Woe betide you if_ I_ ever have to teach _you _something."

"Woe in more ways than one, to be sure."

"You certainly have a big mouth," Yuan commented, tossing the spinning blade to his left hand. "Isn't that a violation of 'holier-than-thou instructors' guild?"

"No such guild exists," Kratos said, sheathing his sword and shaking his head. "Too impractical; it would be absolutely impossible to learn anything new during meetings."

"Your jokes suck," Yuan said, twirling his weapon with both hands now. "Not everyone has the brain capacity to think your lofty thoughts, you know."

"Evidently, you boast the same incapacity." Kratos bowed his head, and raised an open palm. "My apologies," he said solemnly. "I should speak in small words."

"What?" Yuan said. "Really, Kratos, I may only understand three-letter words, but now I can _kick your ass!_"

Yuan leapt forward, springing into the air and swinging his blade downwards, towards Kratos' head. The fool had sheathed his weapon during a fight; even Yuan knew better than that. His heart soared as he felt his weapon connect with something soft. To his immediate dismay, however, he was staring into Kratos' brown, unperturbed eyes. He only had time to glance at the fist Kratos had made around his weapon before he was sprawled on the ground, the wind knocked from his lungs.

Kratos expertly spun Yuan's blade with one hand, throwing it into the air and catching it with ease.

"Obviously," Kratos said, planting Yuan's weapon into the ground. "You underestimate, my friend. Any ass-kicking that was meant to be had, has failed." The human squatted beside his breathless half-elf friend. "Most of the creatures in this world enjoy the full use of four limbs that can be more than enough of a match against a single blade. Just because I have no sword and you do, does not make you the automatic victor. Remember that."

"Rgh," Yuan panted, clutching his offended stomach. "Damn it."

"No frustration allowed," Kratos said, standing up and offering a hand to Yuan. "I believe I'll make that rule number five."

"You survive on these rules, don't you?" Yuan said with a smirk, grabbing Kratos' hand and pulling himself up from the ground.

"One must survive on something. I generally prefer food and water."

"Kharlan, you're full of sarcasm today!" Yuan said, rolling his eyes, and retrieving his weapon. "You must be in a good mood."

Kratos smiled slightly, an action Yuan knew was rare for the swordsman.

"Perhaps," he said simply.

Yuan mock sighed and slumped over, supporting himself on his weapon. "You enjoy seeing my failures don't you?"

"Absolutely."

"One more try," Yuan said with a grin, testing the weapon in his hands again. "I'm getting it this time."

"We shall see," Kratos said, drawing his sword. "Come."

Yuan stood, still spinning his blade absently, watching Kratos for a sign of weakness. So far, and following suit with all the other times Yuan had tried to attack his friend that morning, he saw none. He clicked his tongue against his teeth in impatience. Leave it to Kratos to make his job that much harder.

Without saying a word, Yuan leapt forward, his blade still spinning in a circle. He dove to the left, at the last minute changing his path to the opposite direction, swinging the blade hard at Kratos' right side. Kratos parried with no apparent difficulty, however, and Yuan felt the tell-tale slip of the handle on his fingers as he watched his weapon fly out of control and out of his hands. Not wasting another second, Yuan leapt at Kratos, grabbing a hold of the hilt of his sword.

Kratos grunted in surprise as Yuan tried to wrench the weapon from his hands, but recovered quickly enough. Yuan felt a sharp pain on the back of his head as Kratos grabbed the mass of blue hair protruding from his ponytail. He yelled, his head tilting steadily backwards as he tried to pry Kratos' fingers from the hilt of the sword.

"Give it up!" Kratos growled. "I'm giving you a chance to surrender."

"Never!"

Sighing, Kratos planted his foot hard on Yuan's.

"Ow! What the hell was—"

Yuan's knees buckled as he felt Kratos' other boot connect with the back of them. Unable to move his feet forward to steady himself, Yuan fell flat on his face. He felt Kratos place his foot comfortably on his back.

"Valiant effort," Kratos said simply, sheathing his sword again. "But do not abandon your own weapon so soon. Others are less likely to share, especially if you are trying to kill them."

"Ughf," Yuan gasped. "Okay, I get it. Get off me!"

"Hmm…this _is_ quite a compromising position for you, isn't it?"

"Kratos, quit screwing around, I'm hungry!"

"Very well," Kratos said, removing his foot. Yuan struggled to his hands and knees, glancing up to see Kratos' hand extended once again.

"You know," Yuan said, grasping Kratos' hand for a second time to pull himself up. "You've got to be the friendliest enemy I know."

"I try," Kratos replied simply with a shrug.

Yuan retrieved his forgotten weapon from the ground, and turned to walk back to the village with Kratos.

"So when are you going to start teaching me that mana what-cha-ma-call-it thing?" Yuan asked.

Kratos raised a red eyebrow.

"Mana manipulation?" he said. "As soon as you show yourself worthy."

Yuan grinned skeptically. "In other words, 'As soon as I figure it out for myself' right?"

"You couldn't be farther from the truth," Kratos said rather smugly. "I have already mastered a few techniques."

"A few? Well then, prove it."

"It…" Kratos began, scratching the back of his head, "Takes some effort."

Yuan laughed.

"So you really don't know how to do it, do you!"

"Nonsense," Kratos said gruffly, lengthening his strides. "I just do not feel like wasting energy on the likes of you."

"Ouch!" Yuan protested, the grin still planted firmly on his face as he sped up as well. "Look who's touchy today! Maybe you're in love?"

Kratos stopped dead in his tracks, turning to look at Yuan with an expression that would almost have been laughable if Yuan hadn't known that it was Kratos' famous "death-to-all-beings" look.

"Just…kidding…."

Kratos glared at him a moment longer before sighing and shaking his head.

"I doubt I will ever understand you, friend," he said, a small smile finding its way onto his face as he spoke.

"You say that as if it's a good thing!" Yuan huffed as they neared the large, open gate that determined Heimdall's borders.

"Isn't it?"

"Bastard."

"Hello," Kratos said pleasantly to the guard standing by the gate, ignoring Yuan's last comment smoothly. Yuan sighed and made to walk into the town, but the guard blocked his way with the spear he was holding.

"What's up?" Yuan said, looking down at the spear and then up at the guard. The elf was shifting his weight nervously, his eyes darting everywhere at once as he spoke.

"Password, please," he said.

"What?" Yuan said blankly.

"Password, please."

"Pass…! Oh, come on, it's broad daylight and you know who I am!" Yuan said. "I'm Yuan, remember? 'S far as I know, I'm the only one with blue hair in this village." At this, Yuan grabbed his blue ponytail, waving it as proof. "C'mon, let me in." He started to move forward, but the guard tapped him with the spear.

"Give me the password!"

"What the…!" Yuan looked back at Kratos disbelievingly, and indeed, the swordsman's brow was furrowed as he considered the guard. He glanced up at Yuan and made a small gesture that seemed to say, "Just give him what he wants."

Yuan sighed. "Fine," he said. "_May Kharlan bless those far and near from haven safe and all those here._ Happy?" Yuan pushed the spear aside, moving beyond the gate and into the village, but not before the guard had the last say.

"You stupid half-elf."

Yuan froze. He turned slowly, his eyes wide, to stare at the guard. The elf was boring holes into the ground with his eyes and didn't seem to believe what he had just done. Yuan stared at him, his face etched with surprise and his mouth slightly open.

"What did you say?" Kratos asked, his voice quiet.

The guard fidgeted uncomfortably, shaking his head erratically.

"You're free to pass," he mumbled, then turned on his heel and marched swiftly away.

Yuan stood motionless, still staring blankly, his mind not fully registering the exchange. It wasn't until Kratos placed a hand lightly on his shoulder that Yuan stirred from his stupor.

"Lunch," Kratos said simply, but there was something in his eyes that told Yuan that was not at all on his mind.

"Yeah," Yuan said weakly, shaking his head and forcing himself forward. "Martel invited us."

Kratos nodded gravely, following Yuan up the street and to Martel's house. Standing in front of her door, Yuan paused, his fist suspended before the wooden surface. He opened his mouth, hesitated, then snapped his mouth shut, rapping on the door three times with his knuckles. He could hear the sound of walking, and soon the door opened.

"Hiya, Martel!" Yuan beamed.

"Yuan! Kratos! Come in, come in!" Martel said happily, opening the door wide and stepping back to allow them to enter. "How was it?"

"Excellent!" Yuan said cheerfully, stooping to kiss Martel on the cheek. "I successfully beat up Kratos!"

"And also achieved the greatest imagination in history," Kratos added to Martel's rather surprised look.

Martel laughed.

"Well I hope you two are hungry," she said. "Because lunch is just about ready."

"You're amazing, Martel," Yuan said, smiling fondly down at her. She blushed prettily and excused herself to go finish lunch.

"We'll be right there!" Yuan called after her, removing his boots and propping his weapon against the wall. Kratos stood motionless, watching him.

"Yuan—"

"Forget it," Yuan said, waving his hand.

"This is not—"

"I said forget it."

Kratos sighed. "Are you all—?"

"Hey," Yuan said with a shrug and a smile. "I'm doing what I do best, right? Being naïve and 'too willing to believe in the good of others'. So just let me get away with it for now, all right?"

Kratos opened his mouth, then closed it on a second thought, and Yuan nodded to his friend in thanks. Turning towards the kitchen, Yuan followed the small hallway, urging a more natural smile to take over his grimace.

---

The evening found Yuan sitting alone in his darkened home, absently polishing his weapon at his small wooden table. It didn't need polishing or even cleaning for that matter, but Yuan wanted something to do other than stare blankly at the wall and think the same, depressing thoughts over and over again. He frowned, the rag slowing on one of the golden whorls on the blade. _No, not depressed,_ he thought. _Confused, that's all. Just really, fucking confused._

He sighed, a knock on the door stirring him from his pointless cleaning. Heaving himself up from his chair, he strode over to the door, opening it to find Kratos standing expectantly outside.

"Hey," Yuan said simply, opening the door further and turning away. "What's up?"

"I've been trying to find out more about this afternoon," Kratos said lightly, entering the dark house and closing the door. He paused. "Do you _own_ lights or prefer sitting in a miserable state of darkness?"

Yuan laughed bitterly. "I don't know if it even matters. I'm just too lazy for light."

"Oh?" Kratos said lightly. "Well, I'm not in the mood for darkness right now." He approached Yuan's fireplace, knelt down and placed a single log in the middle of it. Muttering a few words to himself, Kratos extended his hand and a jet of fire sprang from his palm to the log's surface. Yuan jumped.

"Woah!" he said. "That's that mana thing, right?"

"Mana manipulation? Yes," Kratos said with a satisfied smirk, adding more logs to the ever-growing fire. "I told you I could do it."

"Didn't doubt you."

"I'm sure," Kratos said raising his eyebrows and still smirking. He stood and turned to face Yuan. "As I was saying, I was trying to find out more about the incident this afternoon. My search was not fruitful."

"No?" Yuan asked evenly, returning to his seat and propping his weapon against the table.

"Unfortunately," Kratos said heavily, sitting down opposite Yuan. "But please tell me you now understand what I have been trying to tell you—"

"Perfectly. No, wait, that's right, there's no _reason_ for it!"

"Whether there is a reason or not has no relevance when looking at fact," Kratos said. "That guard called you a 'stupid half-elf' and it was not by accident."

"Oh well," Yuan said with a shrug. "Maybe he just doesn't like me."

"Why add on the half-elf then?" Kratos asked coldly. "Why refer to your whole race?"

Yuan shifted in his seat.

"It doesn't matter," he muttered.

"Yes, it does!" Kratos insisted, leaning forward. "Open your eyes, Yuan. Not so long ago you were ganged up on by almost half the population of Heimdall and beaten into a bloody mess! Now you get called a 'stupid half-elf' and harassed when trying to enter your own village! These things have too much in common to be dismissed as coincidental!"

"I don't care," Yuan said fiercely. "There's no point in getting all worked up over—"

"You _should _care, because you are the one paying for your blind faith in others!"

"What do you want me to do, Kratos, huh!" Yuan found himself shouting. He had had enough of this shit, of…everything, it wasn't just Kratos. "You want me to move! Leave Heimdall? Run away, become a _mercenary_, maybe? Huh? What do you want me to do? Damn it, what _can_ I do?" He slammed his fist down hard on the tabletop, ignoring the pain that shot up his wrist. "I can't _do_ anything!" he said, gritting his teeth and staring down at his hand. "So what the hell's the point of realizing that everyone's out to get me? Damn it, Heimdall's my home and it's where I'm going to stay until I'm fucking _forced_ out, you understand!" Yuan ended his rant, breathing hard, shifting his gaze to glare at Kratos. The redhead surveyed him serenely, his arms folded across his chest.

"Are you finished?" he asked.

"…Yeah."

Kratos nodded. "Good. And I am not asking you to do anything, Yuan, believe me."

Yuan said nothing.

"I am not asking you to move," Kratos said, shifting in his chair to lean on the table. "I am not asking you to run away, and I am certainly not wishing the same fate on you as I myself carry. I am only asking you to be more aware of your situation and to take measures to defend yourself if necessary. I have a terrible feeling that you are no longer safe, Yuan."

Yuan shrugged.

"Come on," he said, his words casual but his voice uncertain. "What's the worst they could do? Seriously, they're just regular people."

"Regular people have the capacity to do horrendous things," Kratos said darkly. "Take it from someone who knows."

They fell silent, Yuan rubbing his face with a hand. Minutes seemed to pass, with only the crackle of flames to disturb the silence.

"Why?" Yuan finally said, his voice soft. "Why are they doing this?"

Kratos sighed and shook his head. "I was hoping to find out today," he said wearily. "But I do not know."

Yuan shook his head, his eyes buried in the heels of his hands.

"If you tell Martel about this," he said slowly. "I'll kill you."

Kratos raised an eyebrow.

"And why would you deny her this information?" he asked.

"Because," Yuan said, rubbing his eyes and propping his chin on his hand to stare Kratos in the eye. "If you told her, that would make her worry. And if she worried, she would want to do something about the problem. And if she did something about the problem, she would most likely get hurt, wouldn't she? And if she got hurt, especially on my behalf—"

"I understand," Kratos said quickly. "But this threat does not only apply to you, Yuan. That comment was blatant racial discrimination."

Yuan shook his head. "I know," he said, chewing on his lip. After a moment of consideration, he snapped his fingers. "Got it," he said. "So if they're really after half-elves, I'll be the first one to go, right?"

Kratos looked uneasily at his friend.

"Hopefully not," he said.

"But in all likelihood, yes," Yuan finished for him. "Excellent! Well then, if they kick me out or kill me—"

"Don't say that."

"—You can tell Martel, all right? And then she and Mithos can scurry away while nobody's looking. Okay? I'm counting on you."

Kratos said nothing as Yuan stood up and stretched.

"Ahh," Yuan said contentedly, letting his arms drop by his sides again. "That's better. All right! I'm going to go visit Martel, I'll be back later!"

Krato sighed, frustrated. "Be careful," he grumbled, running a hand over his eyes.

Yuan laughed.

"Your concern flatters me," he said. "But have no fear." He retrieved his weapon from the table and hoisted it over his shoulder and grinned. "I may not be a good fighter, but nobody needs to know that, right?"

Kratos raised an eyebrow, then laughed.

"Quite a formidable opponent you've made yourself into."

"These are dangerous times," Yuan said, narrowing his eyes mockingly. "Remember rule number one!"

With that, Yuan laughed, turned, and strode to the door, pausing only to pull on his boots before he was gone.

Kratos sat back in his chair, staring into the fire still in full blaze.

"Rule number one," he repeated softly. A flicker of a smile passed over his face. "Always be on guard."

---

Mithos walked into the crowded bar to find the regulars all grouped around one person sitting on one of the barstools. As he approached, Mithos caught a snippet of the conversation.

"—I told him I wanted the password and he was giving me all sorts of trash, about how I knew who he was, but I told him I wanted it, and so he gave it to me—"

"But I heard you had to harass him before he gave it to you!"

"Well…kind of, a little bit, but not much—"

"See what a pain he his?"

"Mithos!"

He had been spotted by one of the regulars, an elf with dark brown hair. Immediately, the crowd parted and Mithos was ushered onto a stool next to an elf who regularly guarded the village's borders.

"Mithos, listen to this!" the brown-haired elf said. "Witris here was just telling us how he set that bastard straight after he was being difficult."

"Really?" Mithos said, his eyes widening with child-like curiosity. "What did you say?"

"Really, it wasn't a big deal," Witris said, looking down at his cup, his face reddening. "I don't think I was very kind to Mister Yuan and—"

"Who cares!" a voice shouted. "This is the same bastard who stole Martel!"

"Yeah!"

"He doesn't deserve pity!"

"So what happened?" Mithos said, quietly to Witris, touching his shoulder sympathetically. "Was he awful to you?"

"W-Well, no, not reall…well, perhaps a little. He just wouldn't give me the password right off—"

Mithos sighed with frustration, rolling his eyes.

"Yuan doesn't appreciate the importance of the work that others do for this village," he said loudly, shaking his head. He turned his gaze on Witris again. "Thank you for doing your best and continuing to ensure the safety of us all. It means the world to me."

A noise of admiration passed through the crowd. Someone even ruffled Mithos' hair.

"He's a good one, he is," the bartender said, winking at Mithos. "Quite mature for his age."

"Thank you, everyone for helping me with this," Mithos said, smiling sweetly. "I can't stand seeing my sister around that…_thing._"

The fire immediately sparked in the crowd again.

"Yeah! That's right!"

"Don't worry, Mithos we'll get him for you!"

"Tell us again, Witris! What'd you call him!"

Everyone looked expectantly at Witris again who mumbled the insult to a roar of approval.

"But I didn't dare say anything else," Witris said, taking a draught from his cup, "With Mister Kratos standing right there—"

"Kratos?"

A rough voice from across the room made the regulars turn to see three strangers sitting around one small table with glasses in each of their hands.

"Kratos," the rough voice repeated, and looked at his comrades. Mithos could see they were all clad in black, yet looked distinctly different. One was bald and wearing dark glasses; the second had jet black hair and was wearing a white mask; and the third had a stubbly, unkempt beard and a grin that sent chills down the young half-elf's spine. The latter laughed and pulled himself up from his seat, swaggering over to the bar.

"You're talking about Kratos Aurion?" he said.

"Yeah," said the brown-haired elf uneasily. "Why?"

The stranger said nothing, just laughed. "All right, all right," he said. "Who's out to get this 'Yuan' guy, anyway?"

The crowd erupted with explanations that all melted together in one, noisy mess, but eventually, the people parted, gesturing at Mithos. The man grinned, slinging himself onto the barstool next to Mithos.

"So, kid," he said his breath pungent from liquor. "You lookin' to drive someone outta here?"

Mithos wrinkled his nose. "I'm no ordinary kid," he said, glaring at the stranger.

The man laughed again. "That's what I figure," he said. "'Cause I know that smart kids know how to bargain. So here's my idea. Drivin' someone out ain't so hard if you know what to do. Because where does a person live in their town?"

"Don't patronize me."

"Their house," the man continued, leaning against the bar. "And what happens when they come home and they don't have a house anymore? They leave. You follow me?"

Mithos stayed silent.

"So how about this," the man grinned. "I make this 'Yuan' guy's house burn like the pretty little bonfire it should be, and you tell me exactly where I can find Kratos Aurion."

---

**A/N:** There you have it! It's a cliff hanger, I know, so I'll get right on the sequel! …Hopefully! Agh! I will, I will, I promise! So please leave a review! Thank you, thank you, thank you!

MT


	8. A Swift End

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Tales of Symphonia. If I did, do you think I'd be sitting around here writing this crap?

**Author's Note:** How's this for an update time? Not too shabby, if I do say so myself! …Well, it _is_ kind of long, and I apologize for that. But I hope that you like this chapter. It was fun to write especially since _two new points of view_ are taking part! (Hooray!) Important stuff happens in this chapter, though, and I hope it doesn't feel too abrupt or anything. It is also shorter than previous chapters, but that's how it turned out. And caution yourselves: there may be some slightly emo content, and I do hope that the editing job is up to standards. A most humble thank you to all my reviewers; you make my world spin 'round and 'round, you really do. And also, thank you to all those who read my fic and don't review. But I will love you infinitely more if you leave a response!

Until we meet again!

—MindTricks

**The Act of Shattering Peace**

Chapter Eight:

_A Swift End_

_Again…do it again. _

Yuan stepped back from the thick tree, his blistered hands tingling as he regarded the ravaged bark. Planting his double-bladed weapon in the ground, he wiped his brow with the back of his wrist. He didn't know how long he had been out here, attacking a tree and peeling skin away from his palms. He didn't even know why, entirely. Why _was_ he doing this? Yuan sighed, wrenching his weapon from the ground and wincing at the pain that stung all the way up to his shoulders. _Again._

Taking a breath, he swung the blade in a full circle, spinning it around his hands as he shaved chunks of wood from the tree. After the fourth swing, the blade sunk deep into the flesh of the trunk with a jarring thud. With a sigh, Yuan extracted the blade and eyed the plant. Great portions of the tree's surface had been torn away and now lay scattered around the base of the trunk. He sighed. So much for getting better.

He was by the river again, the mid-afternoon sun high in the sky as he sparred against the tree. It had been several days since the guard had let his snide comment slip, and so far, there had been absolute peace. No more insults, no more beatings…it was as if everyone had forgotten everything about him. As if he had gone back to being Yuan, the half-elf who didn't _really _fit in, but wasn't regarded as a freak anyway. And yet, despite the unspoken "forgiveness," Yuan found himself experiencing something he hadn't in a long, long time: a sense of depression. He knew it was strange, but somehow he felt as if his life as he knew it was slowly slipping away, and there was nothing he could do to prevent it.

So for the past few days, he had snuck away from his home in the early morning and spent the day by the river, sparring against trees. It wasn't as useful as sparring against somebody else, but he didn't feel like asking Kratos to practice with him; anything as cheerful as that would be lost on him. Anyway, he liked the solitude. Nobody could tell him anything, and that was a blessed change.

Of course, because of this, he hadn't seen Martel in the past few days either. Yuan sighed again and leaned against the shaved tree. He hoped she didn't think he was avoiding her. He loved her, he really did, and that was why he didn't want to bother her with whatever issue he was going through. She had the right, more than most people he knew, to be happy. Always. And he wasn't going to be the one to make her worry.

----

Martel sat among the golden stalks of wheat as she watched her brother spar with the red-headed swordsman. It was a beautiful early-spring afternoon, perfect for being outdoors. Her blonde hair rippled slightly in the breeze, as did the entire wheat field. A smile twitched Martel's mouth. She and Yuan had always come here when the weather was nice. They would walk for hours it seemed, talking, laughing, just enjoying each other's company. It was amazing how much comfort another person's presence could give, how happy she felt during those simple moments. The smile steadily fell from her face. Amazing how much she missed him.

"Martel! Martel! Look!"

Martel snapped out of her reverie, a reflexive smile gracing her features as she looked up at her younger brother. "What is it, Mithos?"

"Look!"

Her eyes traveled from her brother to the tall swordsman, who was holding his hand cupped in front of him. Martel rose from the wheat, squinting as she tried to catch a better glimpse of what Kratos was holding. It wasn't until she had risen to her full height that she saw the flicker of flame within his hand.

She gasped, her hands clapping over her mouth in surprise. "Oh my—!"

Kratos smiled appreciatively. "It is nothing but mana manipulation, Miss Martel," he said. "There is no need to be shocked."

"How do you do it?" Mithos asked excitedly. "I want to learn!"

Kratos regarded the ten-year-old gravely.

"I will teach you," he began. "However, this is no simple task. It requires hard work and diligence on your part. It is also not without risks."

"I don't care!" Mithos said, gazing in awe at the flame still flickering in Kratos' palm. "That's amazing!"

"Mithos," Martel said reprovingly, but she smiled at the half-elf. "Think carefully before you make such a commitment. It sounds like a very difficult thing to learn."

Mithos nodded. "I know," he said, looking down at the wooden practice sword he still held in one hand. "But I want to learn." He looked up at Kratos determinedly. "I'll work hard! I promise!"

Kratos considered the young half-elf before nodding swiftly.

"Then I shall instruct you."

"Yeah!" Mithos exclaimed, an ecstatic grin plastered across his face. "Thank you!"

Kratos nodded in response and closed his hand into a fist, extinguishing the fire.

"Are you two finished here?" Martel asked, looking between the two.

Mithos looked up at Kratos, who nodded.

"I believe we have had sufficient practice for today," he said.

"Excellent!" Martel said with a smile, clapping her hands together. "Well, why don't we go back to the village and I'll fix us something to eat?"

Kratos bowed swiftly.

"It would be much appreciated," he said.

"I'll help, Martel!"

"Thank you! That's very kind." She smiled. "In fact, would you do me a very big favor, Mithos?"

"Anything, Sis!"

Martel laughed softly, leaning her hands on her knees to talk to her brother. "Would you run home ahead of us and start a fire in the oven? I feel like baking something."

Mithos nodded. "Okay!"

"Thank you, Mithos," Martel said, enveloping her brother in a quick hug before letting him run ahead of them, his hair as golden as the wheat.

Waiting until Mithos was out of earshot, Martel turned to Kratos.

"I haven't heard from him, no," Kratos said heavily before she could speak. Martel sighed, and the two started their trek through the wheat field.

"I miss him," Martel said quietly. "What happened? Everything was fine, and then he suddenly stopped dropping by." She looked up at the redhead. "Did I do something? Did he say anything to you?"

Kratos shook his head. "Do not believe that you are the source of Yuan's absence," he said. "That could not be farther from the truth. The truth, however, I am unsure of."

"Then I _could _be the cause," Martel said quietly, looking down at her hands.

"No," Kratos said. "You are not. Granted, I do not know Yuan's reasons for avoiding us, but I am absolutely sure that they are not because of you."

"Us?" Martel repeated disbelievingly. "He is avoiding you as well?"

Kratos nodded solemnly. "Indeed. I have tried to speak with him, but he has done an admirable job in hiding from me."

Martel stretched her fingers out, letting them trail across the tips of the wheat. "I hope he's all right."

"Yuan, while he may not show it sometimes, is an intelligent and strong individual. I have no doubts that he is taking care of himself commendably."

A smile danced hollowly on her lips. "I hope so," she whispered. And as she strode back to her home, Martel made a silent prayer to Kharlan, wishing that that half-elf with the blue hair and the kind smile would find happiness, wherever he was.

----

Yuan fell hard against the ground, his weapon slipping from his limp grip. His breathing was shallow as he surveyed the tree, which now gave the impression that it had had an unpleasant encounter with a rather enormous beaver. Yuan huffed with bitter laughter at the thought. Yuan the beaver.

Grabbing his weapon with a raw hand, he planted it in the ground and heaved his aching body to its feet. It was almost dusk; time to be thinking about going home. Yuan mentally shrugged the idea away. Home meant people, and people he wasn't ready to face.

For a while he stood panting, leaning on his weapon for support and staring absently at the tree he had succeeded in mauling. Glancing at his upturned blade, he realized that it would probably need some sharpening. Yuan could just imagine the fit Kratos would have if he told the swordsman exactly what he had been sparring with. A twisted smile met his mouth. Might prove to be amusing, actually.

Turning from the tree, Yuan searched the ground for a stone with which to sharpen his blade, but a whiff of smoke stopped his progress. Frowning, he sniffed the air. Smoke. _Where? _he thought, looking around him, before looking up. Sure enough, a stack of black smoke was rising steadily into the sky.

Usually, he wouldn't be concerned. Smoke could mean nearly anything: a cooking fire, a lost person, burning debris. However, he didn't know of any smoke signals that Heimdall was famous for, and never before had anybody in the village burned the quantity of debris it would take to create that huge a cloud. No, whatever it was that was burning was big and was definitely inside the village.

Yuan pushed his way through underbrush and between trees, dragging his heavy weapon behind him. His pace quickened as the smell of smoke grew stronger, and by the time the trees were thinning, he was traveling at a brisk trot.

The guards weren't at the gate when he arrived, and Yuan ran into the village, bearing right to reach his home.

His feet came to an abrupt halt.

Yuan had never lived far from the gates of the village. In fact, the house his parents had moved into was caddy-corner to them. Easier to get out, his human mother had told him. She had smiled as she said it, and young Yuan hadn't really understood what she had meant by it. Not until she had left the village and never returned, leaving the house to Yuan. Not until his father had gotten killed in a drunken accident that even to this day, nobody mentioned. Not until he had watched the fiery blaze consume everything he connected with home.

He could say nothing, just stare as the small, wooden house burned to the high heavens, smoke billowing from familiar rooms and windows, memories that were, at this point, far beyond repair. With a splitting crack, a beam broke, sending burning embers high into the air, showering the crowd with sparks. Yuan looked among the group of citizens of Heimdall grouped before his house: sparse humans, some half-elves, mostly elves. And looking around at their stony expressions, Yuan finally understood.

"Oh," he said softly, the only thing he could think of to say. "I see."

A flash of red in the corner of his eye, made him tear his eyes away from the fire long enough to see Kratos, out of breath and wide-eyed, halt when he saw Yuan's house. Glancing back to the crowd, Yuan grinned and raised his hands above his head.

"Hey," he said, loud enough so they could hear him over the crackling of his house. "I know when I'm not wanted."

"We're sorry about your house, Yuan," a voice called from the crowd. Yuan bobbed his head.

"Yeah," he said. "I'm sure you guys are. Accidents happen, you know?"

_Like me, I'm sure._

"Yuan—" It was Kratos calling this time.

"Hey, take care of Martel for me, will you?" Yuan said, turning his back on the fiery spectacle and walking toward the gate.

"Yuan, I—"

"I said, take care of her!" Yuan snapped, trying to settle the fear welling up in his stomach. "Damn it, Kratos, if you don't, I'll _kill _you!"

Forcing himself to concentrate on the forest ahead, Yuan walked out of the gates, his neck stiff to prevent himself from looking back.

_This is how you did it, huh, Mom?_ he thought bitterly. _Just walked away from what meant most and never looked back?_ He stifled a sigh and lifted his chin. _Must be in the blood._

----

Kratos watched his friend leave the village and disappear into the woods. His hands clenched into fists.

Footsteps were steadily approaching, and Kratos looked down the road to see Martel running toward him. Not five minutes ago, he had been sitting with her and Mithos in her home and eating dinner. Taking a brief moment outside, he had smelled smoke and gone in search of it without saying a word to his host. Discourteous, he knew, but Martel needn't have been worried over something as trifling as burning debris. This, however, was quite a different story.

"Mister Kratos!" Martel called breathlessly as she approached. "What is it? What's the—" Her voice caught in her throat as she arrived in front of him. Her blue eyes grew wide with fear.

Kratos barely moved fast enough to grab Martel before she flung herself toward the burning wreckage.

"Miss Martel, don't—"

"Yuan!" she screamed struggling against Kratos' grip. "Where is Yuan!"

"He is safe," Kratos said, trying to calm her, despite his own heart racing with anxiety. "He is safe, I promise you. He left only a moment before you came. Do not fret. He is fine."

Martel stopped struggling and looked up at Kratos, tears already spilling from her eyes.

"He…he is?"

"Yes," Kratos said, trying to smile, trying to do something to make peace in the situation. So far, he was failing miserably.

"Is he…is he hurt? Where did he go? Mister Kratos, where did he go?"

Kratos lowered his gaze.

_Damn it, Kratos, if you don't, I'll _kill_ you!_

"This is not the time," Kratos said quietly. "We must wait for this chaos to subside, and then we may seek out Yuan—"

"No," Martel said frantically. "I need to see him. Please, Mister Kratos—"

"I—"

"Well, well, well. Kratos Aurion."

Kratos turned around at the harsh voice. Three men stood in front of him, all clad in black. The one in the middle, and closest to him, had a stubbly beard and continued to speak while his cronies stood behind him, silent. "It's been a long time."

Kratos' brown eyes narrowed, and he shifted his position so Martel was partially hidden behind him.

"Speaking?" he asked, his left hand resting lightly on the hilt of his sword.

The bearded stranger smirked. "Should have known," he sneered. "You don't remember the faces of your victims."

"No, especially since once they are my victims, they are dead," Kratos said, his eyes still narrowed. There was something about this man that was awfully familiar and that he didn't like at all. "Regardless, what is your business with me?"

The bearded stranger laughed. "Who's that pretty face behind you, eh?" He tilted his head to once side as he regarded Martel. "Ah. She must be the one all the boys here are crazy over. Aren't you, you pretty—"

"Your business is with me," Kratos growled, stepping in front of the bearded stranger as he moved towards Martel. "I would suggest spitting it out before I have to force it from you."

"As you say, _Lord _Kratos," the bearded man said with a mock bow. Kratos' jaw tightened, and his mind went to his friend, no doubt wandering aimlessly in the woods because of the insolence, stupidity and prejudice of a few.

"This actually worked out better than expected," the bearded man continued, nodding at the wreckage behind him. "Here I was only doing a favor for the rest of the village, setting this guy's house on fire—"

"What!" Martel's voice rang out shrilly from behind Kratos. "Why would you do—!"

"Easy come, easy go, honey," the bearded man said with a shrug and a grin. "This fine gentleman in front of you just happened to live around here, so I decided to make a deal with a young man, whose identity will remain anonymous at his request. That young man told me where I could find you, Mister Aurion and in return I burned down this 'Yuan' guy's house. Not a bad deal, really."

Kratos felt as if his jaw were going to snap under all the pressure it was under.

"So if you really want to blame someone for that mess," the bearded man said, nodding at Yuan's house. "Blame him." He pointed directly at Kratos' chest.

"How dare you," Martel snarled, her voice and clenched fists shaking. "How dare you do this and then try and blame it on somebody else—!"

"Miss Martel, _no!_"

Kratos grabbed Martel by the arm as she strode past him, pulling her back and resuming his place in front of her. Two of the black-clad men laughed heartily, while the one with the white mask remained motionless.

"What is your quarrel with me?" Kratos growled.

The bearded man's face turned sour. "You don't remember."

"To my knowledge I have done you no wrong_, sir_," Kratos spat. "And I have no quarrel with you that would endanger the citizens of this town. If you wish to fight me—"

"Oh I wish to fight you," the man said, his voice quiet, yet full of danger. "I wish to rip you apart with my bare hands for what you did—"

Kratos sighed in exasperation. "And I wish that imbeciles such as you didn't exist, but the world isn't fair, now is it?"

The man glared murder at Kratos as he spat, "You'll see. You'll see you smart-ass of a bastard. You'll pay for what you did to my father. But you'll pay slowly. Just like you lost your house, your friend lost _his_ house, eh? I can't wait to see your face as you can do nothing but watch as more houses _mysteriously _burst into flames. Not going to fight me here, eh? Well. We'll see about that."

Without another word, the bearded man nodded to the small figure in the white mask. The masked man raised his hand, and the next moment, the three disappeared in a cloud of smoke.

Kratos squinted through the haze at the place where the three strangers had just been. Well, they had given their identity away all right.

"Mizuho," he muttered.

"Mister Kratos."

Kratos turned to Martel who looked as if she were stuck halfway in between fury and tears.

"I need to see Yuan," she said, trying her best to steady her trembling voice. "Where did he go?"

"I do not know exactly where—"

"Please!" Martel cried, grabbing two fistfuls of Kratos' shirt. "You are the one he would tell something like this to! You know where he might be going! Please, Mister Kratos, if you don't tell me, Kharlan help me, I will wander those woods forever until I find him safe!"

Kratos stared down at the half-elf, her eyes full of tears and her voice choked with emotion. He sighed, looking down at her hands holding him captive.

_Forgive me, my friend,_ he thought as he returned his gaze to Martel's.

"There is a river near here," Kratos whispered. "It is not far from the village, but out of all likelihood, that is where Yuan is headed. After exiting the gates, travel straight, but steadily move to your left and you will find the river. I cannot guarantee that he is there, but that is my best guess."

He felt the grip on his shirt diminish, and Martel smiled up at him.

"Thank you," she murmured, gathering his hands briefly in her own in thanks.

Kratos nodded silently, as Martel turned, and walked swiftly toward the gates.

"I will tell," Kratos said, raising his voice so she could hear him, "Mithos that there is nothing to worry about. He will be safe with me."

Martel turned back, smiled, and nodded once, another "thank you" mouthed on her lips. Kratos sighed as he watched her go.

_I'm sorry,_ he thought, running a hand through his messy red hair. _But the one you love has a mind of her own. _

Shaking his head, he turned and strode quickly back to Martel's house.

----

**A/N:** There we have it! Hope you enjoyed it, and yes, poor Yuan. He goes through a lot, doesn't he? I really have taken a liking to his character, though. Who would have thought? Anyway, I hope you liked it and will continue reading! (Once I update again…sigh…)

—MT


	9. Lost and Found

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Tales of Symphonia or Namco. …Or maybe I do. Except I don't. So there you go.

**Author's Note:** Bwaaaaaah!!! I'm _so so so so_ sorry! Deep bow. Please forgive me, those of you who still care a little bit about this fanfic. I love you for it, and appreciate it greatly. Yes, I am still concerned about Yuan's welfare, and hopefully, this is a happier chapter. I am, again, so very sorry for the delayed release; I've been very distracted lately. But I hope you enjoy, and please leave a review if you remember. And a very giant "thank you" to Darknite, Hatori, Kappa, Wandering Rurouni, and Nakago. You guys turn my world, and definitely inspire me to write more of this fic. Thanks for your badgering, from the bottom of my heart!!! Enjoy the chapter!

**The Act of Shattering Peace**

Chapter Nine:

_Lost and Found_

The moon had already risen.

With sluggish footfalls, a young man dragged himself through the familiar woods, loosely trailing a large weapon behind him. He stared blankly in front of him, blue-green eyes vague and unfocused, strands of blue hair escaping the ponytail at the nape of his neck. His hands were limp, raw, and blistered from hours of training against an enemy that had defeated him already. An enemy that had sent him packing only hours before.

Yuan brushed the back of his hand across his face as he slowly plodded away from his town. He didn't know how long he had been walking, his eyes set unwavering to whatever destination lay before him. The forest had grown dark around him, the stars and moon casting oblique shadows of trees and unspoken thoughts and dreams, and whatever else became alive at nighttime. Namely bandits, thieves, and homeless people.

Yuan stopped, his boots crunching on the pebbles that littered the shore of the river. Looking around, Yuan realized that his setting was unfamiliar. He smiled grimly, and nodded to himself. This was the way it should be, surely. Lost and alone in a strange place. It wasn't as if he hadn't done it before.

Raising his hand again, he pressed his sleeve against his eyes.

There was a rustling in the woods behind him.

Yuan swung around, clenching his weapon tightly in his fist. He narrowed his eyes, ignoring the blistering pain shooting up his arm. Muffled footsteps were quickly approaching. Someone was coming after him.

_Who?_ Yuan found himself thinking. _It better not be Kratos, he's supposed to be with Martel…Kharlan help him if it's him, I'll rip the bastard apart. What else do you want, Heimdall? I've gotten the hell out, so you send someone after me?_ His knuckles grew white on the handle of his blade, and he began to shake, his face contorted with fury. _Fine. I'll fucking kill whoever's coming, I swear to—_

He only saw a flash of gold before the "whoever" had latched themselves onto his torso in a bone-breaking hug.

His weapon slipped from his fingers and fell to the ground with a metallic clang as he stumbled back a few paces from the force. It took him a few moments to realize that the arms wrapped around him and the muffled crying on his shoulder both came from Martel.

"M…Martel?" he croaked.

She didn't respond, continuing to cry as she tightened her hug.

"Shh," he whispered to her, wrapping his arms firmly around her trembling form. "Shh…Martel, it's all right. Everything's fine."

But even as he said this, even as he reassured her that he was fine and everything was going to be all right, he found himself crushing her in his embrace, trying to bring himself as close as possible to the only one who wanted to be near him when everyone else wanted to stay away.

----

Kratos entered Martel's house with heavy steps, closing the door with a sigh. Yuan was surely going to kill him the first chance that he got, but all things considered, Kratos didn't think he had much of a choice when it came to Martel; she was someone who, once she set her mind to something, would rather die than settle for less.

Mithos was still sitting at the food-laden table, his eyes wide and concerned.

"Kratos?" he said. "What's going on? Where's Sis?"

Kratos sighed again. "She will be back soon," he said, running a hand through his burgundy hair. "I will be staying here with you until she returns."

"Oh. Okay," Mithos said, looking down at his plate. "Is there anything wrong?"

Kratos opened his mouth, considering how he should respond.

"Nothing that won't be sorted out shortly, I assure you," he said finally with a small smile.

Mithos nodded, brushing his blonde hair out of his eyes.

"Okay," he said.

"Now eat," Kratos commanded, nodding at Mithos' plate. "I quail at the thought of your sister when she arrives home to find that you haven't finished your dinner."

Mithos giggled, nodded, and began to eat, a wide grin tugging on the edge of his lips.

----

"Shh…Martel, it's all right. Don't cry."

Yuan's hand ran even strokes up and down her back, as he softly kissed the top of her head, acutely aware of her ever-present scent. Something unnamable, yet pleasant, sweet, and intoxicating.

"Do you remember," he whispered to her, "when we were little…the first time we met Kratos?"

In between her sobs, he felt Martel nod.

"He had gotten a ride with some circus performers," Yuan continued in a whisper. "You remember? And he was riding on the very back of the last wagon with a scowl on his face that I was sure could kill a person."

Martel nodded, listening to him, her crying quieting.

"And then Mithos," Yuan said, a smile twitching on his mouth as he remembered the occasion, "being that fearless kid he is, went up to him…how old was Mithos? Must have been around six? Came up to Kratos, and asked what he did in the circus and if he could do a trick for him."

Martel nodded, and laughed breathlessly.

"I think only Kratos can give that dirty a look to a kid," Yuan said, laughing quietly himself and shaking his head. "But can you imagine? Kratos in the circus? No, no, let's not. It's a scary thought."

Martel laughed again, and nodded vehemently. Gently pulling away, Yuan tilted Martel's head up to his and wiped away some of her stray tears with his thumbs. "Although, Kratos isn't good for much else," Yuan said with a small smile. "I told him to keep you safe."

Martel shook her head and looked down, her hands still fists in Yuan's shirt.

"I needed to see you," she said brokenly. "It isn't his fault. I needed to see if you were okay—"

"I'm fine, I'm fine! I just don't want _you_ to get hurt," said Yuan, smoothing some golden strands behind Martel's ear. He frowned, examining her for injuries. "You aren't, are you?"

Martel shook her head, and Yuan smiled.

"Good," he said. "But you can't make these midnight trips into the forest a habit, you know." He tried to laugh lightly. "There are monsters out here, and you're—"

"I know," Martel said, "but I don't care." Her fists grew tighter in his shirt. "If it's coming after you, Yuan, it doesn't matter what time of day it is."

Yuan opened his mouth to say something, but found himself quite speechless. He mouthed wordless for a moment, then kissed Martel full on the mouth. Her lips were warm, soft, and now more than ever, Yuan felt consumed by her intoxicating scent.

Several moments passed before they broke from their embrace.

"Come back with me," Martel said quietly, looking down and tugging on Yuan's shirt. "Come back home."

"I can't," Yuan finally croaked, his face burning in the dark.

"Why not? Come stay with Mithos and me."

"I can't, Martel," said Yuan again, "I…." He sighed, looking down at the ground for a moment before returning his gaze to Martel's. "They don't want me there, Martel. They've made that very clear. If I go back, they're just going to drive me out again and if they see you with me—"

"That doesn't matter, Yuan," Martel said hurriedly. "You can't live out here in the woods forever—"

"It's not safe to be around me," Yuan said, desperate that she understand. He would never forgive himself if anything happened to her because of him. "If they see you helping me, you'll get hurt, and I…I couldn't…I can't let that happen. Please, Martel."

Martel fell silent, staring at the forest floor.

"Then I'm staying here," she said.

"S…Sorry?!" Yuan sputtered.

"I'm staying here," Martel repeated, looking up at Yuan. "I refuse to let you stay here alone. So if you're not coming back, I'm going to stay here with you."

"But…no, you can't!"

"Why not?"

"Well…what about Mithos?"

"Mister Kratos is with him," Martel said assuredly.

"Are you sure?" Yuan said, raising an eyebrow and smirking. "Because Kratos apparently doesn't know how to do what he's told."

"I have faith in Mister Kratos," Martel said firmly. "So I'm staying, Yuan, and there's nothing you can do about it."

"Nothing?" Yuan repeated helplessly.

"No. Nothing."

He sighed, looking down at Martel's determined gaze. He smiled weakly at her, brushing a strand of golden hair behind her ear. Pressing his lips lightly against her forehead, he whispered, "Thank you."

----

Yuan awoke the next morning to sunshine, and a particularly annoying bird.

Squinting against the light, he sat up, looking around him for a suitable projectile to hit the only bird in the forest who seemed to think that squawking loudly at an unholy hour was absolutely necessary. Before he could find a big enough rock, however, Martel came walking briskly into view.

"Good morning!" Martel said cheerfully, a basket under one arm.

"Hey," Yuan said sleepily, his eyes still half-closed. He frowned. "Where—"

"I just dropped by the house to say 'hello' to Mithos," Martel said, kneeling down beside Yuan. She set the basket down in between them. "And to get breakfast."

"You're an angel, Martel," Yuan said with a grin, leaning forward and kissing her on the cheek. Martel only smiled, blushed, and proceeded to unpack and distribute the said foodstuffs. "Was Kratos there?"

"Dutifully sleeping at the table," Martel said with a small laugh. "Poor Mister Kratos. He was very kind about it all, though. Told me he would be following me shortly."

Yuan frowned. "What about Mithos?"

"Mithos has his studies today," Martel explained.

"Oh," Yuan said simply, and he smiled. "How educational." School for Mithos either consisted of Kratos' training, or sessions with the village elder. Yuan looked forward to both such occasions, but the latter most of all, because it was the only instance in which both Martel and Kratos were free from Mithos' annoying little clutches.

"He seems to enjoy learning very much," Martel said. "He's always so excited when he goes to these sessions."

_That's one thing we have in common,_ Yuan thought, smiling pleasantly. "Remember when we had to go to those?" he said.

Martel laughed, and nodded.

"Yes," she said. "You would always fall asleep."

"Not always!" Yuan said indignantly.

"Most of the time," Martel said, and she grinned mischievously. "The girls used to braid your hair while you were asleep."

Yuan flushed scarlet.

"Wh-what?!" he said. "Wh-wh-why'd they do that?"

"Whether you know it or not, you were a very cute kid," Martel said knowingly. "And besides, none of the other boys had long hair."

"That's not true!"

"Well, none of them were nearly as cute," Martel said. Yuan felt the heat in his face intensify. "Or asleep."

"Oh, yes. You were one adorable little boy, Yuan," came Kratos' sarcastic voice. "I could have just eaten you up."

"Kratos!" Yuan roared, leaping to his feet to find his friend leaning against a tree, his arms crossed and a smirk plastered to his face. "Whaddareyadoinhere?!"

"Good morning, Miss Martel," Kratos said genially, bowing slightly in her direction. "I saw Master Mithos safely to his lesson."

"Thank you, Mister Kratos," Martel said, bowing her head in return. "I greatly appreciate all your help. Would you care to join us for breakfast?"

"Kratos, what the hell makes you think you have the right to—hgk!"

Yuan choked as Kratos moved forward and grabbed him by the throat.

"Mister Kratos?!" Yuan heard Martel say in alarm, but Kratos said nothing, only looked over Yuan's face with squinted eyes. He proceeded to examine his friend, grabbing both his arms, examining Yuan's palms (at which he tutted in annoyance), leaning over Yuan's shoulder to check his back. At last, he let Yuan go.

"Wash up," Kratos said. "You've got soot all over you."

"That…that's it?!" Yuan said breathlessly, rubbing his throat. "Kharlan, Kratos, I thought you were going to kill me!"

"No that comes later," Kratos said mildly. He turned to Martel. "Your friend has passed inspection," he said. "I am pleased to see that he did not attempt anything idiotic concerning his house."

"Idiotic?" Yuan said. "I didn't do anything!"

"As I said," Kratos said with a nod. "You kept yourself alive and safe. Admirable job."

"Oh, thanks," Yuan said sarcastically. "Now I get praised for just staying alive. Am I really that much of a dunce?"

"Yes," Kratos said assuredly, nodding his head. "As proven by your hands."

"Oh, yeah. Those," Yuan said sheepishly.

"What? What's wrong with your hands?!" Martel said anxiously, jumping to her feet and grabbing Yuan's wrist.

"It's not a big deal," Yuan said, making a fist to conceal his raw palm.

"Open your hand Yuan!"

"Fine," Yuan said with a sigh, letting his hand go lax. Martel gasped at the raw skin.

"I appreciate your sentiments of devoting yourself to extra hours of training," Kratos said. "But wouldn't it be a little more productive if you did not rip your hands to shreds, thus disabling you from practicing any further?"

Yuan frowned. Had Kratos been spying on him or something? "How did you know I was training?" he said.

Kratos smiled serenely. "I can think of no other thing you would devote yourself to."

"Oh, go to hell."

"We need to wrap these," Martel said anxiously. "They look painful."

"They aren't, I prom—ow!" Yuan said as Martel poked her finger in the middle of his palm. She raised her eyebrows.

"I'm going to get some bandages," she said. "I'll be right back. Will you look after him, Mister Kratos?"

"Unwaveringly," Kratos said with a smile and bow. Martel smiled at Yuan, brushed a strand of his blue hair behind his ear, then left at a swift walk.

Yuan turned to look flatly at Kratos.

"This is your fault," he said grumpily, moving to sit down by the river.

"My fault? Dear me, Yuan, you seem to have forgotten rule number two!"

"Does it look like I care?"

"Never anger your instructor," Kratos recited dutifully. "That rule is a particular favorite of mine."

"What'd you have to brainwash her for?" Yuan said moodily, picking up a pebble and throwing it into the river.

"If you have not noticed, she is worried about you," Kratos said. "As am I." He sighed, moving to sit by Yuan. "I told her about that guard's comment the other day."

"Yeah?" Yuan said raising his eyebrows. "What did she say?"

Kratos frowned. "Nothing, she seemed more worried about you. Are you feeling all right?"

"What?" Yuan said. "What are you talking about?"

"You seem…almost happy. What's wrong?"

"What?" Yuan said incredulously, but he felt a grin tugging at his mouth, true and strong. "I'm fine."

"You're happy," Kratos said, a grin creeping onto his own lips as well, "that those people burned down your house."

"What?!" Yuan said disbelievingly. "You're insane, Kratos." And yet, he couldn't stop grinning like an idiot. That was just because Kratos had suddenly become dumber than he was, surely.

Kratos laughed. "I would have never guessed you had it in you," Kratos said. "I thought for sure that you'd brood for days."

"What in Kharlan's name are you talking about, you moron?"

"You're happy," Kratos said, nodding. "You're happy that you don't have to live there anymore. I understand."

"Oh, _you_ understand. Well, that makes everything clear now."

"For longer than this has begun, you've been unsatisfied with living in Heimdall," Kratos said. "You've been waiting for an opportunity to leave, but it never came, because you had Martel keeping you there. But even you couldn't stand it, all the ridiculous prejudice against you, since you were a boy. You were considered a freak—"

"Thanks."

"—But you never once complained," Kratos continued. "Not even when I was beating you in the face with evidence. But that was because you already knew!" Kratos sighed. "Ah, I see. Forgive me, friend, I understand now. I can now appreciate how frustrating that must have been."

"Uh…sure," Yuan said, with a nod. "Yeah. I forgive you." He couldn't help but think that Kratos was making a big deal out of nearly nothing. He was just happy because Martel stayed with him. And that Kratos wasn't beating the shit out of him because he had been fighting a tree with a professional weapon. But Kratos' interpretation was good too. "But you should be sorry."

"I apologize," Kratos said, bowing his head. "I will never do it again in the future."

In fact, Yuan quite liked Kratos' interpretation.

"Yeah, well," Yuan said dismissively, looking up at the blue sky. "We all do stupid things sometimes."

"Speaking of which," Kratos said, lifting his head to glare at Yuan's hands. "Who were you sparring against?"

Yuan swallowed. _Damn it._

"Uh, no one," Yuan said vaguely. "Just at shadows…and a tree…."

"A _what?!_"

"Hey, you emotionally scarred me!" Yuan said defensively as Kratos leaned over to grab Yuan's weapon from the ground. "I was just trying to get out of Heimdall!" Kratos said nothing, only examined edge of the curved blade. Grabbing a large stone from the shore, Kratos threw Yuan a dirty look and began to sharpen the weapon.

"You're doing it for me?" Yuan said, stunned. "Why?" He had thought for sure that Kratos was going to beat him into a gooey pulp.

"Your hands are currently not suitable for the task," Kratos said airily, expertly whetting the blade. "Aside from that, I would be disinclined to ever let you touch this weapon again."

"Hey, it's my gift, dammit!" Yuan said, but made no effort to snatch it back from Kratos. If he wanted to sharpen it, more power to him. Besides, his hands were still throbbing.

Yuan grinned, falling back on the shore and staring up into the brilliant blue sky. It really wasn't all that bad, this living in the forest thing.

"To be honest, friend," Kratos said after a moment. "I'm glad that you're alive."

"How generous of you," Yuan said dryly. "I suppose it's good that you're alive too."

"My reason being," Kratos continued, completely ignoring Yuan's comment, "that I believe I have identified your attackers."

Yuan sat up. "What? Who are they?"

Kratos sighed.

"The arsonists themselves," Kratos said, "are a group of three, from Mizuho."

"Mizuho?" Yuan said. "Where's that?"

"It is a secret village," Kratos explained, "of ninjas."

"How do you know that the arsonists are from there?" Yuan said.

"They revealed themselves to me, after you had left," Kratos said. "They then proceeded to demonstrate skills which only those trained in Mizuho possess. You look troubled."

"No," Yuan said quickly, shaking his head. "Just surprised."

"Why?"

"I thought it was the village," Yuan said. "I thought that it was them, not some random arsonists—"

"These events are not random," Kratos clarified. "In fact, they are explicitly linked. The village did want you out, it is true. That is why they employed the help of some arsonists. These arsonists are the same ones who burned down my own location of residence, not too long ago. From what I have concluded, these arsonists used the village's hatred for you as an excuse to get to me."

"Get to you?" Yuan said, astonished. "Why do they want to get to you?"

Kratos gave Yuan a look. "Over my life I have unfortunately and unavoidably made many enemies," he said lightly. "I can only suppose that these attackers are more of the same."

"So how did they use the village to get to you?" Yuan asked, a weight sinking in his chest. It didn't seem to be his battle at all, and now a part of him sorely wished that the arsonists had skipped over him entirely and gone straight to Kratos. Maybe then, he'd still have a home.

"They told me that they had made a deal with someone," Kratos said, his eyes narrowing. "A young man, they said, asked them to burn down your house, in return for information on my whereabouts." Kratos frowned at Yuan. "You haven't been abusing the local children, have you?"

"What?" Yuan said. "What are you talking about?"

"The arsonist unwittingly revealed that it was a 'young man' who made a deal with them," Kratos said, continuing to sharpen the weapon. "Have you been doing anything to offend any of the young people in Heimdall?"

Yuan laughed. "What do you take me for?" he said, shaking his head. "Of course I haven't. The only kid I know who hates me is Mithos."

Kratos' hand froze on the blade, his brown eyes suddenly wide.

A sense of foreboding rose in Yuan's stomach. "No…wait, you're not saying…." Yuan swallowed. "That's impossible, Kratos. Mithos…Mithos wouldn't do that. He couldn't. A-And he's a half-elf too!"

"No…" Kratos said, his eyes swiftly narrowing as his gaze darted to and fro. "No…I suppose you're right. Mithos would not do something that rash." He swallowed, and for the first time in a long time, Kratos looked severely troubled.

"H-Hey," Yuan said, in an effort to cheer Kratos up. His friend's somberness was scaring him. "I'm sure someone just told their kid to go to these guys. I mean, what kind of a kid would have the guts to do something like that on his own?"

These words didn't seem to have any healing effect on Kratos. If anything, his expression darkened further. Yuan couldn't blame him; he was feeling pretty wary himself. After all, Mithos was Martel's brother. If it was him—

_But it's not,_ Yuan assured himself. _It's not. It can't be. If…if Mithos did that, he'd be endangering himself, because he's a half-elf too. And…and Martel is too! No, it can't be Mithos. Mithos would never endanger his sister._ Yuan swallowed, and opened his mouth to tell Kratos this, but Kratos cut him off.

"I think," he said, getting to his feet, "that it is about time I taught you something."

Yuan swallowed. _Now_ was he going to beat him into a gooey pulp? _Dammit, and he still has my weapon,_ Yuan thought bitterly.

"Wh-what is it?" Yuan asked cautiously.

Kratos extended his hand to help Yuan from the ground, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Mana manipulation."

----

**A/N:** Thank you for reading! Hopefully, the fic will pick up from here, if I ever get around to updating it again. But I will! So stay tuned; Yuan and I appreciate it! Thank you!!!

MT


	10. Burned by Fire

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Tales of Symphonia. Even though I asked Santa for it.

**Author's Note:** Well…here's the next one. This one, I probably spent the most time on out of all my chapters, and it's still a little off. I had to adjust the banter a little, so tell me what you think. And it's longer than most chapters, I believe so hang in there….Hmm. Oh well. Again, the update time is much faster than you can ever hope for again, so please don't kill me if the next chapter doesn't come out for awhile. It's all to do with inspiration, you see. And I have other projects I'm working on. Thank you again, to all my Yuan fans who continue to read this (or Kratos fans. He's pretty cool too, you know. Or Martel fans. Or Mithos fans, if you're twisted.): Darknite, Hatori, Kappa, Rurouni, Nakago, and Linkite. Thank you, and enjoy!

**The Act of Shattering Peace**

Chapter Ten:

_Burned by Fire_

Mithos sat at the bar, his head propped on one of his hands. There was noise and activity around him, but none of it interested him in the least. Things had gone back to normal now that Yuan was out of the town. No longer were murderous thoughts circulating around the population of Heimdall. Everyone was content.

Except for the small, blonde boy who sat waiting for the arrival of the arsonists. He had told them where to find Kratos, but now that Yuan was out, Mithos was having second doubts about his decision. He would be very disappointed if any harm came to his teacher. Kratos, while he was strict in his discipline, listened to him fairly and didn't treat him like an obnoxious brat. He seemed to understand him, and that was something that only Martel seemed to have the capacity to do these days.

_Everyone else here underestimates me,_ Mithos thought sulkily. _They just think I'm some ordinary kid. _

The door opened, and Mithos glanced up to see the three men clad in black enter the bar, the scruffy-faced one in the lead. The man shook his head with a growl, then spotted Mithos.

"Hey. Kid," he said, coming over and standing beside Mithos.

"What do you want?" said Mithos coolly.

"Where's this Kratos Aurion?" the man said.

Mithos narrowed his eyes. The man seemed to be angry about something; his words were short and his voice was curt.

"How should I know?" Mithos said, turning back to the bar, uninterested.

The man placed a hand on the surface of the bar and leaned over him.

"Look," he said in a low, but deadly voice. "We've held up our end of the deal—"

"So have I," Mithos said.

"Not yet, you haven't," the man said. "We just happened to run into Aurion yesterday, but you never gave us a location—"

"He lives around the village," Mithos said with a shrug. "I can't tell you more than that."

"Yes you can, you little liar, and you will, unless you want us on your case instead," the man spat.

"Leave me alone," Mithos snapped. "I don't know where he lives, so get over it."

The man grabbed Mithos roughly by his collar, the stale odor of alcohol strong on his breath.

"Well start thinking, and start thinking fast, kid," he growled. "For your own sake."

"Let me go," Mithos said calmly, glaring daggers at the man. "You don't understand who you're dealing with."

"Oh I don't, do I?"

"No, you don't," said Mithos with a satisfied smirk. "You think I'm just a kid, but I have this whole village on my side. You touch one hair on my head, and you're a dead man. You'd be a fool to hurt me."

"Oh, you think so, do you?" the man growled, his hand tightening on Mithos' collar. "We'll see about that!"

The man dragged Mithos from his seat, and with three swift strides, he had exited the bar, pulling Mithos along by his upper arm.

"Let me go, you bastard," Mithos said, trying to wrench his arm free. "I'll—"

He was cut off by a firm hand over his mouth. Mithos tried to pull away from the hand, but his escape was denied as one of the men picked him up. He lashed out with all his limbs, but to no avail. For the first time in a very long while, fear gnawed at his stomach.

Mithos collided with cold stone as the man who was holding him threw him to the ground. He scrambled to his feet, looking around him. He was in an alleyway, between the bar and the building next to it, a wall behind him, and three menacing adults in front. All right. He got it.

"All right," he said, crossing his arms. "You win. I get it, you're stronger than me. What do you want?"

The scruffy-faced man said nothing, only hit him hard across the face.

Mithos staggered to the side, his blue eyes wide and his hand covering the red spot on his cheek. He could taste blood welling in his mouth.

"Too late for 'sorry'," the man spat, advancing on Mithos and procuring a belt from his waist. "You're going to pay in blood."

Mithos fell to the ground again, his head slamming into the road as the man grabbed his collar and threw him. His vision spinning in front of him, Mithos tried to get up, tried to run, but a boot collided with his chest, sending him to the stony street again.

"You think I put up with shit like this?!" the man demanded, advancing on Mithos and kicking him again. "When you make a deal, kid, you follow through!"

Trying to wheeze in some air, Mithos felt the sharp edge of the belt bite into his arm and cried out breathlessly, curling into a ball. The man, however, pulled him up again by his collar.

"You're not the Kharlan-damned owner of this place," the man said. "You're just a whiny little kid who's deluded, you piece of shit."

The man slammed his fist into the side of Mithos' head. Stars flashed before his eyes, a searing pain shooting throughout his entire skull as he shouted in pain.

"A curse on every damn one of you!" the man shouted, throwing Mithos to the ground, and lashing out with the belt. "You filthy half-elf! I'll kill you if I get the chance, you hear me?! Give me a reason!"

"P-please," Mithos managed to say. "D-don't…"

"Don't _what_ you son of a bitch?!"

"S-Stop it!" Mithos wailed, and ashamedly, he realized he was crying. Why was he shaking? Why couldn't he pull himself together?! "S-Stop it, p-please, s-stop it!"

"You'll kill him," said a cool, unfamiliar voice somewhere above his head. The belt whipped down once, twice, three times more, before it stopped. Mithos curled up, wrapping his arms above his throbbing head and shivering uncontrollably. The cool voice came again. "The townspeople will come."

"You had better not say a word," the man hissed, grabbing Mithos by the neck. "You say a word, and you'll wish you'd never been born. I'm after you, boy. You're next."

With that, he released Mithos roughly, and disappeared with the other two men in a cloud of smoke.

----

"Are you sure this won't hurt?"

"Yes, Yuan," Kratos said, sighing and rolling his eyes. "For the third time, I promise you, it will not hurt."

"Yeah, but last time, you came to my house with hands that looked like they were about to fall off," Yuan said uncertainly, looking down at his own hand.

"I hadn't had enough practice with it," Kratos said impatiently.

"Well, I haven't practiced at all."

"All the more incentive to get it right the first time, now isn't it?"

Yuan turned disbelieving to his friend. "You're evil."

"How kind. Just try it."

Yuan swallowed and held his hand out in front of him, his raw palm facing the river. _"You will need to know how to master fire if you are to live in the wild,"_ Kratos had told him only moments before, as he retreated several paces from the river._ "There may be times when necessary tools evade you and you are left alone. This is the reason you must make yourself a necessary tool, capable of doing tasks crucial for survival."_

_All well and good_, Yuan thought nervously. _But asking me to light my hand on fire is something else._

"Focus your energy into your palm," Kratos instructed. "Envision fire in your hand. Feel its warmth, but not its burn. In mana manipulation, you get what you ask for."

"So when you came the last time—"

"I got what I asked for, yes," Kratos said with a sigh. "Please stop speaking. Your lack of concentration is infuriating."

"I _am_ concentrating," Yuan insisted, still holding his hand in front of him.

"Obviously not as much as you should be."

"Easy for you to say. You're just standing there."

"Well observed. Be quiet."

Yuan fell silent, trying to focus on sending fire to his hand. He could feel nothing, nothing at all. Not the tingle of energy, not the warmth of fire, nothing. Yuan grimaced with frustration. This was stupid. Trying to make fire with his bare hands? There was no way that he'd ever be able to master it.

He sighed, lowering his arm. "I can't do this," he told Kratos.

"Your persistence astounds me," Kratos said sarcastically. "Please stop. I don't think I could bear it if you tried for another thirty seconds."

"What the hell's the point?" Yuan said with a shrug. "You're asking me to make my friggin' hand catch fire."

Kratos sighed. "Be patient. This is a difficult, but necessary skill."

"All well and good for the one who's not doing it," Yuan muttered.

Kratos held his hand cupped in front of him, and in a moment, flames were crackling merrily in his palm. He smirked.

"Tell me, how does your foot taste?"

"Smartass," Yuan grumbled, turning back to the river and stretching out his arm. He paused, then turned back to Kratos. "Wait. Why are you suddenly teaching me this?"

"Well, I have yet to teach you anything, since you insist on remaining so pigheaded."

"I'll start learning as soon as you stop insisting on remaining so high-and-mighty."

"I am afraid your learning stops here," Kratos said with a sigh. "My apologies."

"Spit it out, or I'll kick your ass," Yuan said firmly. "I give you a choice."

Kratos blinked at him for a moment, then threw his head back and laughed heartily.

"Hey!" Yuan said indignantly. "You don't have to think it's that funny! I'll do it too, someday, I swear to Kharlan!"

It took awhile for Kratos' laughing to subside, but when it did, he folded his arms across his chest.

"Mithos expressed an interest in mana manipulation," he said levelly, "and I told him that I would instruct him."

Yuan scowled. "Oh, so you teach _him,_ but not—"

"I have not begun to teach him," Kratos said calmly.

Yuan closed his mouth, not sure of what to say. "So?" he said finally. "What does that have to do with anything?" He frowned as it dawned on him. "Wait," he said, looking sharply up at Kratos. "You don't still believe that—"

"I think it is important that you be farther along in this field of study than he is," Kratos said simply. "That is why I think it is time that you learned mana manipulation. Unless you object—"

"I'm not," Yuan said quickly. "I'll try again."

"Good."

Yuan turned back the river, extending his arm again. Kratos was suspicious of Mithos. Yuan wasn't sure about the validity of his distrust, but couldn't help but feel a little happier now that he knew his friend was obviously backing him.

_Mithos's just a kid though,_ Yuan thought, staring into the water as he tried to summon heat to his palm._ There's no way that he'd do something like that. I mean, he hates me, but doesn't everyone? _

A strange feeling swept through Yuan's body, as if his body was rippling from the inside out. He shivered. Hate. The fire, the smoke rising into the air. A heat seemed to grow in his chest, and the ripple passed through him again. He was standing on the edge of something…something huge, but he couldn't convince himself to jump. He frowned at the river, the safety device in case something went horribly wrong.

_That's the problem,_ he realized, and shut his eyes against the water. Water extinguished flame. There was no reason staring at it when he was trying to summon the opposite.

Fire. Heat.

The feeling swept through him again, as if he were a towel hanging to a clothesline in a hard wind. His heart began to beat faster, pumping red blood through his body. Red, hot blood. Like fire. Yuan's lips parted, and he found himself whispering these things in an incantation. A mantra of flame, of smoldering ashes, of smoke billowing into the sky, of hate, of something deep, dark, and a million times bigger than he could ever dream of being.

His heart was pounding his head, his mouth burning with anticipation. He was almost hungry for this fire, this ash, and this smoke. He could taste the sulfur, the residue of what the fire consumed. He could feel the warmth, the heat from the fire in his hand, could see through closed lids, its orange glow, could hear its crackling merriment—

Yuan frowned. Wait. He _could_ hear something.

A silent hiss reached his ears, and surprised, Yuan opened his eyes. In his outstretched palm balanced a perfect ball of writhing flame. His blue eyes widened, and his jaw dropped. Drawing his hand to him, he looked deep into the flame, the mana. His mana. A wide grin spread across his face.

"Kratos!" he said, waving his hand excitedly. "Look what I…" He trailed off as he realized the flame had extinguished during his rapid movement. "Dammit!" he said, frustrated. "Look, I did it, I swear to Kharlan, but it went out as soon as I—"

"I know," Kratos said, and Yuan was shocked to see a rare grin on his lips. "An excellent job."

"Wh-What's that look for?" Yuan said warily, thoroughly embarrassed that Kratos was actually smiling on his behalf.

"It seems, my friend," Kratos said, "that we have found your gift."

"My…wha?"

Yuan stumbled to the side, his head tilting and swaying with the moving world around him. He blindly grabbed for something to hold on to, his fingers brushing against bark, before he fell forward onto his face, inhaling earth.

"What," Yuan croaked, "the hell?"

"You've just lost some mana for the first time," Kratos explained. "You will be dizzy for a little while. It should wear off in a few minutes."

"Ugh," Yuan groaned, closing his eyes and feeling severely nauseous. "This sucks."

Kratos chuckled. "Well worth it, I would say."

"Why's that? You're not the one with your face in the damn dirt."

"Your body will adjust to the loss," Kratos said, strolling casually over to where Yuan lay motionless. "Eventually you will be able to call upon your mana without any taxing effects."

"Eventually," Yuan snorted. "You're talking like it's going to happen again."

He could tell Kratos was frowning as he spoke.

"I would strongly encourage you to continue this study," he said.

"Again, not your face in the dirt."

"No," Kratos agreed. "However, watching is just as satisfying, trust me."

"Go to hell."

"I suppose I might," Kratos said mildly. "I should pack for warm weather."

"Yeah, yeah, smartass," Yuan said, trying to push himself up from the ground. His arms shook violently, and he fell again with a loud "oof!"

"Kharlan damn it all," he muttered.

Kratos shook his head and tutted disapprovingly. "Yuan, Yuan. What kind of an example is that to set for Mithos?"

Yuan glared up at Kratos.

"What the hell are you talking about?!"

"My, my, this loss of energy seems to have turned your mood," Kratos said serenely. "And you were in such a pleasant humor…."

"Kratos, you ass, tell me what you were saying!"

"I merely was wondering whether you had considered the possibility that you may be, potentially, a role-model for our young companion. Especially in mana manipulation."

Yuan scowled. "Why do you say that?"

Kratos smirked.

"As I said," he told him. "We have found your gift."

Yuan snorted. "Don't be stupid," he said.

"On the contrary," Kratos said airily. "I am never stupid."

Yuan snorted again, and Kratos sighed.

"You were able to do what I finally managed in days."

"What?" Yuan said incredulously. It seemed impossible that he was able to do something better than Kratos. "You're kidding…."

"I kid you not," Kratos said solemnly, shaking his head. "I practiced for at least a fortnight until I was able to conjure a flame. On my second…'successful' attempt, I dealt serious damage to both my hands in that rebound."

"Oh, yeah?" Yuan said, grinning from where he lay. "So I finally beat you. Hah!"

"I was, however," Kratos said with a slight cough, "able to remain standing after all my attempts."

"Well aren't you special."

"I like to think so," Kratos said smoothly. "Nevertheless, you have shown great potential. It must have something to do with your elvish blood." He trailed off thoughtfully.

Yuan opened his mouth to respond, but there was a rustling in the woods, and Martel came bolting into the clearing.

"Martel!" Yuan said cheerfully. She looked wordlessly from Kratos down to Yuan, still lying face-first on the ground, her eyes wide and panicked. He frowned. "Are you all—"

"I can't find Mithos!" she said. "The elder said he left for home an hour ago, but he hasn't been back since!"

Yuan found himself suddenly standing as Kratos grabbed him roughly by the arm and pulled him to his feet. "Miss Martel, I will look into the matter," he said swiftly. "I must ask you, however, to stay with Yuan."

"No, Mister Kratos, I'll come with you—!"

"I am afraid that I cannot let you," Kratos said firmly. "I apologize. I promise, however, that I will return Master Mithos to you unharmed." Yuan noticed that Kratos' jaw was set, and he seemed slightly paler than usual.

"Kratos," Yuan began, but Kratos cut him off.

"Take Miss Martel back to her house," Kratos said, "and leave her side for no reason. Can I trust you with this task?"

"…Yeah," Yuan said, with a nod. He still felt a little unsteady, but knew better than to argue with Kratos when he was in this mindset. "I'll stay with Martel." He stooped to grab his weapon, before moving to Martel who was arguing with Kratos.

"—Please, he's my brother. I cannot just wait at home, I need to find him—"

"Under normal circumstances," Kratos said heavily, "I would have no objections with you searching for him, _however_—" Kratos sighed. "—I have reason to believe that Mithos has engaged in activities which have proved dangerous to him, and possibly to you—"

"Kratos!" Yuan said sharply. "What the hell are you—?!"

"—If my suspicions are true, then you are in far more danger than you believe yourself to be in."

"I don't care!" Martel shouted, tears welling and leaking from her eyes. "He's my brother!"

"As much as you might not care about your own welfare in the face of such adversity," Kratos said calmly, "there are those of us who do." He nodded at Yuan and gave a nod himself. "Please heed my words and return to your home. I am sorry, but I must leave. Yuan, see that she remains there."

"Okay," Yuan said, as Kratos turned on his heel and swiftly. He turned to Martel who watched Kratos' departure standing still, silent, and strangely composed.

"Are you okay?" he asked quietly.

"Why was Mister Kratos so concerned?" Martel whispered. She turned to Yuan. "He was worried…about something Mithos was doing…."

"It's nothing, I'm sure," Yuan said with a shrug. "You know how paranoid Kratos gets." He wasn't about to tell Martel that Kratos suspected Mithos as the mastermind behind the plot to throw him out of the village. "Come on," he said instead. "Let's go home."

Martel nodded mutely, and allowed Yuan to wrap one arm around her as he guided her back through the woods and to the village.

The guard was waiting for them.

"Halt! Who goes…."

Yuan glared at the guard, his hand tightening on his weapon.

"Permission to enter," he growled.

The guard gaped at him, and Yuan said nothing more, leading Martel through the gates and into her house.

He leaned his weapon against the wall, and steered Martel into a seat at her table.

"He's going to be all right, you know," Yuan said, taking a seat next to her. "Kratos'll find him in no time."

"What if he isn't all right?" Martel whispered. "I…I just don't know anymore…."

Yuan frowned. "What do you mean?" he asked quietly.

"Mithos…Mithos hasn't been himself lately," Martel said. "I've been getting this feeling that he's…thinking about something…_planning_ something huge, and he's not telling me about it. He's been wandering around the village aimlessly, disappearing, sometimes for hours, but always showing up again….I was so happy today when he was excited about going to his lessons, because it was more normal than I've seen him in a while. But the elder said that he had come back here to pick up his book, and…_he_ was the one who asked _me_ where Mithos was. I just…I worry so much about him, and now this…."

"Shh, Martel," Yuan said placing a hand on her shoulder comfortingly as she wiped her eyes. "He's going to be fine."

"I know the lack of parents has impacted him so much," Martel said, her voice strained. "I've tried to do my best to raise him, but I'm only his sister—"

"Martel! Don't you dare say that you haven't been doing a good enough job at raising him!" Yuan said vehemently. "That's insane. You've done more for him than most parents do for their kids. And Mithos appreciates everything, you know that." Martel sniffed, and wiped her eyes on the back of her long sleeve.

Yuan sighed and smiled weakly, reaching out to brush a few tears away with his thumb. She was so compassionate, and yet so stubbornly strong. In less than twenty-four hours, she had been reduced to helpless sobs twice for the sakes of others. Many would no doubt see this as weakness, but Yuan wouldn't have her any other way; this weakness in others' eyes was, to him, one of her greatest strengths.

The door opened with a bang, and both Yuan and Martel looked up sharply. Kratos stood in the threshold, holding Mithos in his arms, the latter of which was a nervous wreck.

"Mithos!" Martel cried, running to her brother as Kratos moved swiftly across the room.

"He needs rest," Kratos said sternly, moving into Mithos' bedroom, Martel trailing after him. A moment later, Kratos exited the room, pulling the door closed behind him.

"Is he okay?" Yuan asked anxiously.

"Yes," Kratos said gruffly. "No permanent damage has been done. He is shaken, but he will make a full recovery."

"Where was he?" Yuan asked.

"Down an alley," Kratos said, "beaten half to death."

"What?!" Yuan yelped. "Who would want to beat up Mithos?!"

"Someone who doesn't need him anymore," Kratos said darkly, sitting down at the table. "I'm afraid that Mithos has been playing with fire and, unlike you, he has gotten burned."

"So you think that…that he was the one who tipped those guys off?" Yuan said, sinking into a chair.

"Almost completely," Kratos said, clasping his hands together in front of him. He swore underneath his breath. "Kharlan, I cannot believe how…childish—!"

"He _is_ a kid," Yuan said with a shrug.

"Yes, but not an ordinary one," Kratos said. "Which is a blessing, but now I see it is a curse. When I first met Mithos, I thought it was extraordinary how mature and advanced he was for his age. I thought this to be only a boon, and agreed to train him in the ways of the sword and mind. I would never have imagined that he would use his cunning so carelessly and in such a dangerous way….That boy is foolish."

"Dangerous?" Yuan said, and "I mean, I'm not saying what he did was good or anything, but dangerous? It…it can't be bad…right?"

But even as he spoke, Yuan knew that it was. Kratos confirmed his fears with a heavy look and sigh.

The door to Mithos' bedroom opened, and Martel emerged, looking somewhat shaken.

"Mithos…is asking for you, Mister Kratos," she said quietly.

Kratos swallowed, and got to his feet, moving soundlessly to where Martel stood by the door. Yuan followed behind Kratos and, as the redhead entered the room, got a glimpse of Mithos.

The boy was like Yuan had never seen him before. Mithos was sitting upright in his bed, his face bruised and bloody, his eyes wide and breathing panicked. He was shaking like a leaf in a tempest, his hands clenched around two fists of bedclothes. As soon as Kratos ended, Mithos began to speak.

"M-M-Mister K-Kratos, p-please h-h-help m-me, I d-didn't—"

"Silence," Kratos ordered firmly. Mithos took a few anxious breaths, then clamped his mouth shut and nodded furiously, immediately wincing.

"Mithos," Martel said, moving forward, but Kratos turned to her.

"I would like to speak to Master Mithos alone," Kratos said. Martel looked between him and her brother. "Please," he added.

"C'mon, Martel," Yuan murmured, taking her by the arm and pulling her back out of the room. "Let them talk."

Kratos nodded in thanks to Yuan who nodded in return before closing the door with a snap.

"He…he wouldn't tell me anything," Martel said, turning to Yuan. "He just kept asking to speak to Mister Kratos….Did Mister Kratos say anything to you? Did he tell you anything?"

Yuan opened his mouth, then sighed.

"No," he said, shaking his head. "I'm sorry, Martel, but he didn't say anything."

Ten minutes passed before the door to the bedroom opened again and Kratos emerged, pure disgust etched on his face. Yuan and Martel both stood up from the table.

"What…what is wrong?" Martel breathed, taken aback by Kratos' expression.

"Master Mithos," he said coldly, "has been making deals with arsonists. I suggest you ready your things to leave. This house is no longer safe."

Martel stood for a moment, unbelieving.

"Wh…what?" she breathed, looking between Kratos and Yuan. "Wh-What do you mean?"

"I simply mean that your brother is a fool," Kratos spat. "He has been plotting to exile Yuan from this village, and in the process has endangered you, himself, and me as well."

"Kratos," Yuan said warningly, grabbing his shoulder. He appreciated the fact that Kratos was angry, but it was still Martel he was talking to. It wasn't her fault. Kratos seemed to understand, and reluctantly took a deep breath, exhaling it in a frustrated sigh.

"That...that can't," Martel breathed, looking horror-struck at Yuan, her hands covering her mouth. "I…I can't…believe it….Mithos—"

She rushed into her brother's room.

"He told you?" Yuan muttered as Kratos shifted uncomfortably.

"Yes," he said. "Everything. Apparently, he was the one spreading rumors about half-elf inferiority to get people to mistreat you. He made a deal with those arsonists, and was beaten when he refused to give them my whereabouts."

"You said that they found you, though—"

"Only by happenchance," Kratos said, beginning to pace. "Mithos did not give them any more information than the fact that I lived in the general vicinity of the village. So they made him pay with his blood." He stopped pacing, his brown eyes widening slightly. "Pay with his blood…I remember. I remember now. That man came from Meltokio."

"What?" Yuan said. "I thought you said that they were from Mizu-whatever."

"One of their members _is_ from Mizuho…at least the man in the mask," Kratos said, resuming his pacing. "The leader of the group, however, came from Meltokio. His father led a massacre there years ago…'pay with blood,' I remember. I was hired by the king to get rid of him."

"By the king?!" Yuan said, shocked. "You never told me that!"

"I killed him," Kratos continued, oblivious to Yuan's outburst, "and now I remember, there was a young man who was working by his side. That young man must have been the son, the arsonist after my blood." Kratos smirked. "I haven't paid yet. That was his catchphrase," Kratos explained to Yuan's questioning look. "_Pay with your blood_."

Yuan wrinkled his nose. "He had a catchphrase?" he said disbelievingly.

"As terribly cliché as it sounds, yes," Kratos said heavily. "He was, however, quite the formidable opponent."

Yuan shook his head in disbelief. "Anyway," he said. "What's going to happen to Martel and Mithos?"

Kratos sighed, running a hand through his hair, looking a little more at ease. "If they are prudent, they will leave this place before any more misfortune falls upon them," he said.

"It's really that bad, huh?" Yuan asked darkly.

Kratos sighed again. "Yes," he said. "It has reached a level of severity that I would be a fool to ignore. The arsonists know who Mithos is. It would cost them no effort to find this house and to raze it to the ground. And if they so much as saw Martel again…" Kratos ran his hand through his hair again as he considered how to continue. "Men such as they are not quite as honorable as you and I," Kratos said finally, giving Yuan a meaningful look. "She is in danger as well."

Yuan sighed and rubbed his face with his hands. "I can't believe Mithos would do that…to Martel, I mean."

"He is a fool," Kratos said, the words spilling from his mouth with distaste, "and he is too young to fully understand what he has done. It is my fault as his teacher that I encouraged him as I did and did not set him straight when it was necessary to do so."

A sense of foreboding shot down Yuan's spine. He had been lucky enough to escape being "set straight" by Kratos in all his years of knowing him. It was almost scary that Mithos had received that privilege before him.

Martel emerged from Mithos' bedroom, shutting the door quietly behind her. She walked over to Yuan and, to both his and Kratos' immense surprise, sank to her knees in a bow.

"I take responsibility for this," she said, lowering her head. "He is my younger brother, and I take full responsibility for his actions. I…I am so, so sorry. I know that it doesn't change anything….I understand if you can't forgive me for this, but please know that I am so…terribly sorry…."

Yuan stood for a moment, stunned, as he stared down at Martel. This wasn't the way it was supposed to be. _He_ was supposed to be the one apologizing for something idiotic that he did all by himself. She hadn't done anything, and yet here she was, apologizing.

Yuan crouched down beside her and placed a hand on her head.

"You can be really stupid sometimes," he said with a laugh.

Martel looked up at him, tears welled in her blue eyes. Yuan smiled at her.

"This isn't your fault," Yuan said. "And it's all right besides. I was going to have to leave Heimdall one of these days anyway. So don't do this, all right? It's not your fault at all."

Martel swallowed, bit her lip, and rubbed her eyes. Wordlessly, she nodded. Yuan patted her on the head.

"You should consider taking your leave," Kratos said gruffly, but his voice had softened somewhat. "As hard as it may be, I believe it is necessary."

Martel nodded again as Yuan helped her to her feet. "Yes," she said. "I believe that…that you are right Mister Kratos. Thank you for all your help."

Kratos blinked, then bowed.

"It is my honor," he said. "You are my friends, and I will do my utmost to see you two safe." He glanced at Yuan. "And that one too. But only if it is absolutely necessary, and I find myself without any other responsibilities."

Martel laughed breathlessly, as Yuan snapped back, "Yeah, well, same to you."

"Your retorts are becoming wittier by the day."

"Shut up!"

"I will go tell Mithos," Martel said with a sad smile, "that we will leave soon." She paused as she turned to leave, turning back. "Wh-where will we go?"

Kratos sighed, running a hand through his burgundy hair. "We will find shelter," he said, "I promise you. However, beyond that, I cannot say."

Martel exhaled, nodded, then disappeared into Mithos' room.

----

**A/N:** There you have it! Chapter ten done. This is kind of a milestone, actually…double digits. Anyway, I hope it didn't go too fast, and you're thinking, "It's about time!" instead of "Where did that come from?!". I do apologize, but I think it's time that this fic gets going. Please let me know what you think! Thank you again!

MT


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